I Am Contented Ill Make You Immortal In My Lines

I am contented I’ll make you— Immortal in my lines. Ardent learners shall raise questions In college-classes And eagerly inquire of us; And young lovers derive their inspiration. But, still I desire! If I grow as a millionaire. We have multimillion annual income From import-export, or in foreign savings, And or a business in food. Starting from a mini-amount As that Indian lady— Gorgeous and rich, Had begun just from few thousand rupees And taken a room on rent. And we would tour every new year A new land. You would wear that long white gown, A maid would carry its hem While descending the palace’s stairs, Attending the dancing singing beggars. And I would imagine ideas n’wer and h’gher, In a lonely cottage as my office. With an honest on-the-go youngman as my assistant, And a witty widow To serve us hot teas with buttered bread.