| I tell it as I best know how
|
| And that’s the way it was told to me: I
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| Must have once been a thief or a whore
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| Then surely was thrown overboard
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| Where, they say
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| I came their way from the deep blue sea
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| It picked me up and tossed me round
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| I lost my shoes and tore my gown
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| I forgot my name
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| And drowned
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| Then woke up with the surf a-pounding;
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| It seemed I had been run aground
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| Well they took me in and shod my feet
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| And taught me prayers for chastity
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| And said my name would be Colleen, and
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| I was blessed among all women
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| To have forgotten everything
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| And as the weeks and months ensued
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| I tried to make myself of use
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| I tilled and planted, but could not produce--
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| Not root, nor leaf, nor flower, nor bean; |
| Lord!
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| It seemed I overwatered everything
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| And I hate the sight of that empty air
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| Like stepping for a missing stair
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| And falling forth forever blindly:
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| Cannot grab hold of anything! |
| No
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| Not I, most blessed among Colleens
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| I dream some nights of a funny sea
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| As soft as a newly born baby
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| It cries for me so pitifully!
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| And I dive for my child with a wildness in me
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| And am so sweetly there received
|
| But last night came a different dream:
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| A gray and sloping-shouldered thing
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| Said «What's cinched 'round your waist, Colleen?
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| Is that my very own baleen?
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| No! |
| Have you forgotten everything?»
|
| This morning, 'round the cape at dawn
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| Some travellers sailed into town
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| With scraps for sale and the saddest songs
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| And a book of pictures, leather-bound, that
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| Showed a whale with a tusk a metre long
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| I asked the man who showed it me
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| «What is the name of that strange beast?»
|
| He said its name translated roughly to
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| He-Who-Easily-Can-Curve-Himself-Against-The-Sky
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| And I am without words
|
| He said «My lady looks perturbed
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| (the light is in your eyes, Colleen).»
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| I said, «Whatever can you mean?»
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| He leaned in and said
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| «You ain’t forgotten everything.»
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| «You dare to speak a lady’s name?»
|
| He said, «My lady is mistaken
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| I would not speak your name in this place;
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| For if I were to try then the wind--I swear--
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| Would rise, to tear you clean from me without a trace.»
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| «Have you come, then, to rescue me?»
|
| He laughed and said, «From what, 'colleen'?
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| You dried and dressed most willingly
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| You corseted, and caught the dread disease
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| By which one comes to know such peace.»
|
| Well, it’s true that I came to know such things as
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| The laws that govern property
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| And the herbs to feed the babes that wean
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| The welting weight for every season;
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| But still
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| I don’t know any goddamned «Colleen»
|
| Then dive down there with the lights to lead
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| That seem to shine from everything--
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| Down to the bottom of the deep blue sea;
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| Down where your heart beats so slow
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| And you never in your life have felt so free
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| Will you come down there with me?
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| Down where our bodies start to seem like
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| Artifacts of some strange dream
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| Which afterwards you can’t decipher
|
| And so, soon, have forgotten
|
| Everything |