ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

let me know what do you think

BACK THEN

this story is of an old man sitting back and remembering

As this day it was slowly came to an end
I watched the birds heading to their roosts .
I thought just how peaceful things were
in the twilight years of my waning life.

That evening, leaning back against an old stump
and watching, gazing at the bright red embers.
into my mind came some pieces of an old tune
that my father used to sing to me, when he was home

By an old Moulmein pagoda looking eastward to the sea
there's a Burmese girl awaiting and I know she thinks of me

See Dad served in the first world war, and spent time in Burma.
And he told me it was a place of warm seas, and balmy breezes,
and a place that held fond memories, so very different to the war.
Suddenly my mind went blank, it seemed like the tune had gone.

Sadly today, dad's been gone now for nearly thirty years.
He was once big and tall, but now, he's bent, from years of toil.
It's strange how in my mind, I could still see him,
and still feel him as he happily bounced me on his knee singing.

And the wind is in the palm trees and the temple bells they toll
come ye back you Aussie solder come ye back to Mandalay

Times maybe strange, but memories they still dwell in my mind.
Mum has gone so has dad, and I wonder what will my children
think and remember of me, in those years after I have gone.
And this old fire burning in front of me will be long be gone too.

Come ye back to Mandalay where the flying fishes play and
the storm comes up like thunder over China cross the bay.

The Road to Mandalay

And that was the song my father sang, and it is still in my memory today


Written by Bill Williams 5 march 2014 ©

I'm sure many folks retain memories as precious as these were for your Dad - I guess we all like to recall our happier times. Heres the poem Mandalay it certainly sounds idyllic.


Mandalay – A poem by Rudyard Kipling



By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' lazy at 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!

'Er petticoat was yaller an' 'er little cap was green,
An' 'er name was Supi-yaw-lat --- jes' the same as Theebaw's Queen,
An' I seed her first a-smokin' of a whackin' white cheroot,
An' a-wastin' Christian kisses on an 'eathen idol's foot:
Bloomin' idol made o' mud ---
Wot they called the Great Gawd Budd ---
Plucky lot she cared for idols when I kissed 'er where she stud!
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin' fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China
'crost the Bay!

When the mist was on the rice-fields an' the sun was droppin' slow,
She'd git 'er little banjo and she'd sing "Kulla-lo-lo!"
With 'er arm upon my shoulder an' 'er cheek agin my cheek
We useter watch the steamers an' the hathis pilin' teak.
Elephants a-pilin' teak
In the sludgy, squdgy creek,
Where the silence 'ung that 'eavy you was 'arf afraid to speak!
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin' fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China
'crost the Bay!

But that's all above be'ind me --- long ago an' fur away,
An' there ain't no buses runnin' from the Bank to Mandalay;
An' I'm learnin' 'ere in London what the ten-year soldier tells:
"If you've 'eard the East a-callin', you won't never 'eed naught else."
No! You won't 'eed nothin' else
But them spicy garlic smells,
An' the sunshine an' the palm-trees an' the tinkly Temple-bells;
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin' fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China
'crost the Bay!

I am sick o' wastin' leather on these gritty pavin'-stones,
An' the blasted English drizzle wakes the fever in my bones;
Tho' I walks with fifty 'ousemaids outer Chelsea to the Strand,
An' they talks a lot o' lovin', but what do they understand?
Beefy face an' grubby 'and ---
Law! Wot do they understand?
I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin' fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China
'crost the Bay!

Ship me somewhere's east of Suez, where the best is like the worst,
Where there aren't no Ten Commandments an' a man can raise a thirst;
For the Temple-bells are callin', an' it's there that I would be ---
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' lazy at the sea;
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay,
With our sick beneath the awnings when we went to Mandalay!
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin' fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China
'crost the Bay!

Goodonya Bill.


Ooooooooooooooooooooon the road to Mandalay..

yep, struck a chord with me Bill.

Ron