By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' eastward to the sea,
There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me;
For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say:
"Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!"
Come you back to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay:
Can't you 'ear their paddles chunkin' from Rangoon to Mandalay?
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!
......
When I was a windy boy and a bit
And the black spit of the chapel fold,
(Sighed the old ram rod, dying of women),
I tiptoed shy in the gooseberry wood,
The rude owl cried like a tell-tale tit,
I skipped in a blush as the big girls rolled
Nine-pin down on donkey's common,
And on seesaw sunday nights I wooed
Whoever I would with my wicked eyes,
The whole of the moon I could love and leave
......
Away, melancholy,
Away with it, let it go.
Are not the trees green,
The earth as green?
Does not the wind blow,
Fire leap and the rivers flow?
Away melancholy.
The ant is busy
......
I prefer red chile over my eggs
and potatoes for breakfast.
Red chile ristras decorate my door,
dry on my roof, and hang from eaves.
They lend open-air vegetable stands
historical grandeur, and gently swing
with an air of festive welcome.
I can hear them talking in the wind,
haggard, yellowing, crisp, rasping
tongues of old men, licking the breeze.
......
Veiling, barely, his dread
Beauty and its blaze,
An angel sets warm bread
and cool milk at my place.
His eyelids make the sign
Of prayer; I lower mine,
Words interleaving vision:
--Calm, calm, be ever calm!
Feel the whole weight a palm
Bears upright in profusion.
......
pastel spring's coming
ushered in by fresh fragrance
lemon blooms sunning
posh pink flowers peep
pearl snowdrops left with the clouds
blue roses still sleep
buttercups, lilacs
green ivy resumes its creep
......
Sleeping in blossoms, plush pillows!
Fleeting dreams, of pink, cloud billows.
Red, orange, purple and golden,
spread over green park, so olden.
Soft, the sighs, as hummingbird flies,
Oft' plagued by purple martin cries.
Falling through petals ~ deep, downy.
Crawling time, scented and drowsy.
Out alone at last
Seven, and rapt in lush green
Seeds of verse were sown
Yellow butterflies, hued blooms
On our new street of fireflies
Sunday church garden
of lime green blooms, reds and creams-
Luxuriousness!
Gracefulness and scented smiles
greet butterflies in hued styles.
Orange, yellows, pinks
in the sweet whirlwind of days!
Gathered together.
To the silence, bluebirds sing
......
Smiles on all faces
when roaming green, green spaces.
Mauve populations
and redbird expectations
thrill in butterfly nations!
Color imposes
Wild horses and red roses.
Singing lilac breeze
greets yon heather honeybees
......