Lakmé’s Song


I heard a Lark singing in the meadow!

A chorus rose to punctuate her song.

The clarity of her trill carried into the air

with the sweetness of a morning’s dew.

A robust Thrush gave echo in concerted voice

an answer to a maiden’s prayer.


Where is the pool where I shall find the Lotus Blue?

Come follow me and we will search

across the river beneath the water’s view.

There my lover was to meet me

and that is all I knew!

His music carried to my prison

where I have been long held;

my fate has taken from me the true love I once beheld.


Fate has robbed  me of my happiness,

true joy has left me and with my sorrow I am alone.

I have searched the night winds for his whisper

carried by the rushing currents far from home.

He would not have left me, I am sure.

He pledged the heart within his breast

to be the bond and burden

to carry my dreams to their rest.


Love is sweet oh fairest one,

but bitter untasted as the wine

spilled and lost upon the brine.

You were waiting at that moment

of the evening when the dawn

came sailing into the judgement call.

With eyes imploring you fell,

when words were lost,

as you were quickly carried

into the watery hell.


The Lark, she soared to freedom

away from death’s tolling knell.

Her brothers sang their chorus,

each note a singing bell.

The Thrush, she was a’mourning,

for her true love, the one of her adoring,

was the true love she lost as well.


April 7th. 1997 © Will George

Will George Poet