1) Before my birth long ago in this tiny town
When our great grandfathers settled here
A tavern Called “White Swan” was seen.
2) Wayfarers called this
place not by its name
But
by its location as “The Tavern-Tree”:
And now beneath that titan-tree we find
A coffee-house with a few remnants of past :
3) A broken chair, an old table and a long
teak bench
A dull drab marble statue in a nook
Perhaps of a pretty lady serving wine
From a
flask decked with wreathes of silver foil.
4) On the old withered wall a picture hung
Of a Persian lass pouring sherbet
To weary travelers dressed in white long robes
While their camels knelt down with
dreaming eyes.
5) A
broken goblet huge with blue designs
Which others
named as that of sea-god
Decked with
sea-shells and dressed in mossy blue
Boozing
with sea-nymphs under his blue caves.
6) A tablet half-broken with mystic symbols
A
brown tortoise shell served as a paper weight
A cupboard
filled with sundry tokens strange
Which once flourished as worthy prized
possessions.
7) Beneath the chain-hung lantern light
did meet
Our predecessors used to chat and chat
Sipping foreign wine and
eating tasty dishes
Talking about their rich estates and
gains they made.
8) They merrily talked of their crops and
cattle
About the myths of magic and heroes old:
Of their podgy wives and country damsels
Interspersed with jocund shouts of laughter
and cries.
9) Some spoke about their ancestral homes
with pride
About their prestige in the royal
courts
Some showed their heirlooms as the
sovereign proof
Of their noble line and their charitable
deeds.
10) Upon their table a marble elfin stood
With her slender arm outstretched in
graceful pose
From whence arose sweet fragrance in curly
clouds
Distilled
from herbs of Java and fertile France ;
11) The attar of sweetest Samarkand and Ceylon
In costly crystal vials awaited their call
While foaming wine in sparking goblets
Welcomed
them with tempting ruddy looks.
12) To
cheer their hearts damsels with lotus-eyes
Attuned their lyres and sang voluptuous
songs
As rich landlords threw gifts in liberal
measure
Praising their skills by clapping hands.
13) Those glories fled and those rich merry
lords
No
dancer danced, no song and no drumming sound
No
frothing wine in crystal goblets and no perfumes
No merry round of talk, no pretty lasses seen;
14) Only a drab coffee-shed with faded paintings
found
Where poor folk come to sip coffee from
broken cups
Smoking cheap cigars and making ribald
jokes
Ogling at passing rustic girls with gestures
lewd.
15)
The tavern-tree stands like a witness mute
Half-worn by denting time with broken
boughs
Only
a few old men remember still
Those
bygone happy days with tear-filled eyes.
************************
22nd February, 2019 Somaseshu Gutala
22nd February, 2019 Somaseshu Gutala
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