From the coasts of Waliwafta,
Where the golden sunset gleams,
All my days I’ve spent to seek thee,
O Wambala of the Streams.
Vain I asked the Zama meadows,
And the birds of Malahu :
Then I found the silent river,
Curving down from Kanaku.
‘Mid the rocks and rounded boulders.
Of that mazy mountain-side,
Long I wandered. wailing, sighing.
Till I saw a cavern wide.
Soft I heard a woman whisper
In that cavern cold and still,
And she bade me follow quickly,,
So I went, and feared no ill.
On we stumbled in the darkness,
Oft I fell, for I was old,
Till I saw a sparkling city,
With a gate of shining gold.
Then we reached Wambala’s palace
Up the stairs of precious stone,
And I told her how I’d loved her
As I knelt beside her throne.
“Many moons have waned, Wambala,
Mighty Mistress of the Streams,
Ere a youth in Waliwafta,
Saw and loved thee in his dreams.”
“So he sought thee all the noon-day,
In the Dawn and through the night’
But he found thee not, Wambala,
Till his hair was long and white.”
But Wambala rose in anger;
“Thou art old, and worn with years,
Get thee back to sheep and meadows,
We have banished age and cares.”
Then, on bowing low to leave her,
To her singers and her lyre . . .
Lo, she shrivelled as a parchment.
In the ashes of a fire.
So I followed by the river
Through the crags of Kanaku,
And I slept beside the rushes
In the meads of Malahu.
(R S Ward)
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Based on Topics: Night Poems, Youth Poems, Dreams Poems, Fire Poems, Gold Poems, Birds Poems, Woman Poems, Hair Poems, Anger Poems, Cities PoemsBased on Keywords: zama