Today at the used book store I bought a brittle, yellowed, paperback copy of Poems From the Sanskrit , translated by John Brough, ©1977. It’s a collection of secular poems from India, all written between the fourth and tenth century A.D.
The one below is, unfortunately, anonymous, but it’s the one that caught my eye and was the deciding factor in buying the book:
Although I conquer all the earth,
Yet for me there is only one city.
In that city there is for me only one house;
And in that house, one room only;
And in that room, a bed.
And one woman sleeps there,
The shining joy and jewel of all my kingdom.