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Poem by Vachel Lindsay Buddha Would that by Hindu magic we became Dark monks of jeweled India long ago, Sitting at Prince Siddartha’s feet to know The foolishness of gold and love and station, The gospel of the Great Renunciation, The ragged cloak, the staff, the rain and sun, The beggar’s life, with far Nirvana gleaming: Lord, make us Buddhas, dreaming. Vachel Lindsay Vachel Lindsay's other poems:
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