He called her Daphne
And she called him Apollo
Black Throated Weaver Birds
And they were in love.
It was harvesting season and for them the season of love
He made on a tall coconut tree a beautiful nest
That hung from the palm leaf dancing like in a rocky bay a cove
Everyone said in the whole valley, it's the best.
He had forbidden her from coming
Anywhere near the nest until upcoming,
For he wanted to build the nest all alone
And surprise her as best in the whole valley.
Once the work was done, the nest glowed in the envy of all,
He set out to invite her to her new home
Where they will have their honeymoon
And then rear their babies, so he dreamed.
He carried in his bills a barley spike
Specially selected by him for her
As his wedding gift, which she accepted
And to their nest, they flew back together.
Reaching back on the tall coconut tree
He could not locate his nest on its long spread of leaves,
He thought he looked on the wrong tree
He searched tree after tree, with Daphne in tow, in vain.
Al last, desperate, she shouted at him, 'You cheat! You liar,
‘The most beautiful nest of palm leaf fibre woven'
I was a fool to believe the gaudy lies you've woven
I know you never built any nest', she flew away.
Through the welling tears, he saw at a distance
A foreign human tourist walking away with the nest
He built for his beloved, after paying the boy
Who had plucked it from the coconut palm leaf.
'He carried in his bills a barley spike' I say use 'bill', not 'bills'. 'Reaching back on the tall coconut tree': I'd say: 'Returning to the....'
Unnikrishnan, if you want people to 'look for' more of your Daphne/Apollo poems, I suggest you mention them in your Poet's Notes on every D & A poem. : )
stanza 2: Do you want 'boat in a cove'? ? not bay in a cove? I give 5 stars. It seems Daphne should have plenty of other birds in the valley to vouch for the truth of her husband's words
Please forgive my Indlish, Bri. But I will to change it.
I plan to return to your 'series of three' which looks now as if it has turned into a series of five! bri : )
I liked your double use of 'woven'! The last stanza is my favorite. And it reminds me of how, as a boy, I sometimes collected a nest from a tee or bush once I felt birds had finished with it. Later I learned they may have used it again. bri
Birds, especially Baya Weaver Birds do not used the nests again Bri. So, it is ok to collect used nests
BUT, though some of your English usage varies from mine, I DO understand you fully and am enjoying your story. : ) bri (in stanza 7, a spelling typo)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A green leaf from Greek mythology woven into an enchanting poem ----Pains and agonies of a lost love so creatively expressed.
Thank you, Bharati. I hope to bring this out as a series. Obliged to you.