There happens to be a port for light-skinned gals on the shore of Malay Sea.
Seen many a sea all across the globe; been through Kuala Lumpur, Java,
Sumatra, Indochina, and Bali where the blue mist laden sun's ray had touched me.
Now it pains me to see a tan Malayan woman crying all day long.
She watches a blue hued desolate place on the shore of the sea.
There happens to be white colored cottages scattered inside a palm grove.
Those look whiter in the daylight just as fireflies would shine in the dark.
Light skinned couples milled around there just as crabs would hug a seashore,
They spend their times, the Malaya woman frets and flusters by mistake,
She cries watching this blue hued desolate place on the shore of the sea.