Now the British comes to shore
wet and tired from colonial gatherings
he sits on the bench
in the park smoking a cigar
and watching ducks
play in a pool
falling asleep as the centuries
drift in a dream
wakes up looking at the carpet
being rolled out curry-stained
on the ruffled edges
in a corner Mahatma Gandhi
is eating dal and roti
and looking at the children
marking pages of the British constitution
they too eating
tandori naan and drinking chai
listening with intent
musical hummings of Rabindranath Tagore
and reading Gitanjali
as a new beginning
of the sun comes rising again
always from the East.

Leonard Dabydeen

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/always-from-the-east/