THE SPIRIT OF INNOCENCE
Nirmaldasan
1. FRIENDSHIP: A ROUNDEL
An angel may in dream appear,
A thousand blessings God may send;
But God’s best gift is a loving friend.
Youth need some wealth and health and cheer,
From thousand ills may God defend.
An angel may in dream appear,
A thousand blessings God may send.
When Sorrow makes you shed a tear,
A friend will your loneliness end
And has a helping hand to lend.
An angel may in dream appear,
A thousand blessings God may send;
But God’s best gift is a loving friend.
2. THE GATES OF PARADISE
Under a tree, under a tree,
Christ Jesus sat to find some rest.
When Him they see, when Him they see,
Children the parents bring to be blest.
His disciples all, disciples all,
Try their best to keep them away;
But He doth call, but He doth call
With beckoning voice them to stay.
With tone intense, with tone intense,
His disciples He thus doth chide:
“To innocence, to innocence,
Heaven’s gates are open wide.
So suffer ye, so suffer ye
Little children to come to me.
O suffer ye, o suffer ye
Little children to come to me!”
3. SONG OF THE BEARD
All right, all right, little fellow,
All about this I’ll let you know.
Does it tickle thee?
Tug not, tug not at my beard, O!
Thou needs must quiet be.
For years and years altogether,
In clement and in rough weather
Grew my beard though slow.
Oft I darted to the mirror
A glance at it to throw.
Many a tear thy grandma shed;
Thy grandpa too was offended
To see this wild outgrowth.
“You better shave it off!” he said
With a thundering oath.
Nay, not to threats I yield, my son;
And not for aught under the sun
Will I my beard pluck off!
Growing a beard is lots of fun,
Doesn’t it make you laugh?
Thy grandpa thought I was a knave
Just because I refused to shave;
We saw not eye to eye.
But heaven at last to him gave
Sense forever and aye.
The razor and the stainless blade
Stained his visage and him dismayed
O’er again to the core.
At last he a vow solemn made
Ne’er to shave anymore.
“Growing a beard,” he said, “is fun,”
While at breakfast he chewed a bun;
Thy grandma looked agape.
“Better,” she said, “to be a nun
Than wed this hairy ape.”
4. ANDREW VEDA
When he was only one,
He learnt to talk and run
And chased the birds for fun,
Ah smartest Andrew Veda!
When he was only two,
All chessmen’s names he knew;
Could arrange the board too,
Ah smartest Andrew Veda!
When he was only three,
He could compose poetry
And roller-skate in glee,
Ah smartest Andrew Veda!
Now he is only four
Whom all of us adore,
May God his blessings pour
On smartest Andrew Veda!
5. PRIDE AND ENVY
He stalks the dark woods with an imperial stride,
A lion no envy knows but peerless pride.
Mirrored in a tremulous pool he glares askance
At his sparking mane and flaring countenance.
He forgets a moment the shadow is his own;
He envies the shadow — his pride is flown.
He cocks his head; his cavernous jaws divide
And out springs a terrific roar, an outpour of his
pride.
The dormant hills answer back with a deafening roar
Surpassing the volcanic roar of the carnivore.
He forgets a moment the echo is his own;
He envies the echo — his pride is flown.
6. JOHNNY LEE FRANCO
Part I (1986)
Franco is a little boy,
A little boy is Franco.
I’ll get him a little toy,
For he is my jo.
And today is his birthday,
And this the birds know;
And do you know what they say
Of Johnny Lee Franco?
“Franco is a little boy,
A little boy is Franco.
His birthday is of great joy
But will he ever grow?”
Laughed I, for though he is older
Than he was a year ago,
He’s yet to reach my shoulder
And yet to reach my brow!
But now, since he is older
And still very coy,
I’ll get him something dearer
Than a little toy.
But what is this dearer thing
I bring for Franco?
Ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling,
None but he shall know.
Part II (1987)
Franco has a little shadow,
Little shadow, little shadow,
As little as he;
And wherever you Franco find,
Franco find, Franco find,
And wherever you Franco find,
There ’tis sure to be.
And for every mischief Franco did,
Franco did, Franco did,
And for every mischief Franco did,
It did darker grow;
But the little shadow wished to be,
Wished to be, wished to be,
But the little shadow wished to be
White and pure as snow.
And as Franco’s birthday falls today,
Falls today, falls today,
And as Franco’s birthday falls today,
He’ll be good fellow;
So little shadow, you shall be,
You shall be, you shall be,
So little shadow, you shall be,
White and pure as snow.
Part III (1990)
A happy birthday, Johnny Lee Franco!
The clock now strikes ding-dong, ding-ding-dong,
And “happy birthday!” the three worlds echo.
Like a restless wind I blew to and fro
And uprooted trees that seem’d stiff and strong;
But now like a breeze do I softly blow.
But ’tis thou, O sometime little fellow,
Who must, with a breath taken deep and long,
At one puff all the lighted candles blow.
By my black beard swear I that I will go
And strike by Odin’s name the brazen gong
And whoop a prairie’s whoop of a whoop-whoop-O!
Swear I by my black beard, which downwards flow,
That of all the pals which to me belong,
Only thou I worthy count, O my jo!
Beat the drum, with a measured beat and low,
And strike a tune to this my greeting song,
A happy birthday, Johnny Lee Franco!
And “happy birthday!” the three worlds echo.
Part IV (1993)
This is
Not a gift of gold,
Not a gift of myrrh,
Nor a gift of frankincense
Which wise men from the east
Brought for Jesus the Christ,
The name above all the names,
Mankind’s Saviour, Prince of Peace.
Yet this is
Not an unworthy gift,
Not an ignoble gift
For ‘sometime little’ Franco.
This is
Just a little gift,
Just a little key-chain,
Meant for the truly great:
Men like Adolph Hitler,
Like Napoleon Buonaparte,
Men like Winston Churchill,
Like Johnny Lee Franco.
For
They hold the key to fame,
They hold the key to fortune,
And hold the key to greatness.
So take this little gift,
Not an unworthy gift,
Not an ignoble gift,
Take this little key-chain,
O ‘sometime little’ Franco.
7. WORKING OVERTIME
Bo is just six years old,
He goes to school to learn;
His brother Joe is only eight
And has already learnt to earn.
Says Bo to brother Joe,
“School is closed today.
So here and there we will run
And play throughout the day.”
Says Joe to little Bo,
“With you today I cannot play;
I must be working overtime
Though it is a holiday.”
Bo is just six years old,
He goes to school to learn;
His brother Joe is only eight
And has already learnt to earn.
Says Bo to brother Joe,
“Please Joe, with me you must play;
Papa and mama go to work,
But at home you must stay.”
Says Joe to little Bo,
“We will play but not today;
I must be working overtime
Or I’ll lose a double pay.”
Bo is just six years old,
He goes to school to learn;
His brother Joe is only eight
And has already learnt to earn.
8. NITA MRUDHULA
Nita is a little girl,
A little girl is she.
Her hair has a lovely curl,
As lovely as can be.
Her cherry-like lips enclose
Two rows of silver pearls;
And her cheeks, rosy as a rose,
Belongs not to other girls.
Like petals soft, but softer,
Are her two little palms;
And the sound of her laughter
Is sweeter than the psalms.
Her eyes, like the stars that glow,
In broad daylight they shine.
Her smile is like a rainbow
And her heart is divine.
9. THE SWEET GIRLIE
Thirty days hath September,
One of them we remember.
’Tis the ninth and ’tis the day
Which haps to be the birthday
Of Madhini the sweet girlie.
The sun has risen once again,
Bells are ringing in the fane,
Birds awake are twittering;
With them in chorus let’s sing
To Madhini the sweet girlie.
She is not yet half of ten,
Her thoughts are beyond our ken.
Under the Neem let us talk
Or to the fields let us walk
With Madhini the sweet girlie.
What she sees and what she hears?
What she loves and what she fears?
Does she like to sleep and dream?
Or be awake and eat ice-cream?
Ask Madhini the sweet girlie.
She smiles like the moon at night,
She runs like a bird in flight.
Coy as the sun in the west,
Quiet as a bird in the nest,
Is Madhini the sweet girlie.
Let us wish she smile always
And shed no tear all her days;
For not those cheeks of rosy hue
Can bear like leaves the tears of dew,
Ah Madhini the sweet girlie.
10. THE SPIRIT OF INNOCENCE
Sweetest of babes that e’er in cradle lay,
Gently the cradle rocks, gently you sway.
Like a lotus bud your eyes are shut
Dreaming of all things sweet and far away.
Whence your fancy springs? And what it kens?
Your nostrils draw the breath of sweet incense;
Soft are your limbs; and soft about you lies
Like a cloak the spirit of innocence.
You must share with me your dreams when you
wake;
Gently your cradle rocks, gently you shake.
Now a smile lights upon your lips, and now
Your eyes sparkle like a crystal lake.
I’ll gaze in the crystal balls of thine eyes,
Gaze therein and ken where your future lies.
But your forehead is like tabula rasa
On which Fate rewrites its lines and flies.
Your ears are like shells sprung from the deep;
Gently your cradle rocks, gently you sleep.
Like a cloak the spirit of innocence
Guards you from the cold and Fate’s fell sweep.
11. MOTHER COW
With painted horns and tinkling neck,
How beautiful is the cow!
Filled with milk of human kindness,
Milkman ceases to milk you now.
Bloated udders did weigh you down,
But emptied now by more than half.
The milkman with his pail has left,
Yourself prepare to feed your calf.
The cow seems not to listen at all,
Moves on seeking a grassy bed.
But between the mother’s hind legs,
The poor calf puts forth its head.
The cow moves on to pastures green
With its dear calf following on.
Still with head between mother’s legs,
Strives the calf to go sucking on.
While on the move to suck on and on,
The famished calf has grasped the knack.
And its mother dear lifts up the tail
And blessings drops upon its back.
12. A LULLABY
Shall I drape you in silk?
Shall I feed you sweet milk?
Baby, sweet baby.
Will you cry, will you weep?
Will you not go to sleep?
Baby, sweet baby.
The oxen bells tinkle,
Your tear-filled eyes twinkle,
Baby, sweet baby.
I will drape you in silk,
I will feed you sweet milk,
Baby, sweet baby.
Home goes the oxen team,
Do shut your eyes and dream,
Baby, sweet baby.
