What is this drink butThe April sun, squeezedLike an orange inMy glass? I sip theFire, I drink and drinkAgain, I am drunkYes, but on the goldof suns, What noblevenom now flows throughmy veins and fills mymind with unhurriedlaughter? My worriesdoze. Wee bubblesringmy glass, like a bridesnervous smile, and meetmy lips. Dear, forgivethis moments lull inwanting … Continue reading Summer in Calcutta by Kamala Das Summary