I flicked the pages of my Frazer,
But found no parallel to this
Jubilant wetness in the jeep.
Oh, the harsh baptism of jets
Through hosepipe and bamboo pumps,
Oh, the splash of the twist of the tin!
The wenches love it, drenching you
And being drenched. Fancy plays
Games of juxtaposition.
Frolic palls, the rites repeated
Entrench the grin upon your face,
The spirits can't soar any higher. Going home,
Dodging the funny floats whereon
The dancers' clockwork jerks
Punctuate the angular din;
Will you be wiser next year, foreigner,
And dodge it altogether, ringing up friends
To make a world-excluding foursome?
- - - - - - -
The first line refers to the two-volume classic
by Sir James Frazer (early 20th century) about
religions and cultures, 'The Golden Bough'. This
New Year festivity, 'Thingyan' is popular in South-east Asia.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem