Lure of the Orient, Tang of the sea, Billowing jib sails Took him from me. Kimonos from Hongkong, Beads from Malay ... But ever he wandered Farther away. Slowly but surely Years moved along, Taking for toll A maiden's song. And now while his parrot Profanely screams, A lonely old sailor Mends broken dreams ... While another man splits My kindling wood, And calls me his sweetheart -- As a husband should. But who shall be saying I am content, With the heart of me still In the Orient? |