Author A. K. Ramanujan Bless you. Listen to me: my man wore the flowers, and there were young leaves for me; their blossoms gold, their buds, sapphire; tell me, what do you call those trees on his mountain slopes? Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments