The Other Island
There is an old palm tree
Growing right under my balcony.
This palm is the first thing I can remember
As I look back at myself, young and slender.
I was lost, and saw the palm trunk
Glowing green in the tropical dark.
I remember it well though I was only four -
The first encounter with my never-be-home.
Yes, it was beautiful; yes, it was strange,
As the island still is, for it never changes
But I'm bound up with the Other Island.
The palm is still gorgeous, somewhere below -
Can't see it from here but I simply know.
Rich gathering green and the blue-green waters,
So clear is the sky, so gold is the sun - and what is
The point? I look over them, trying to see
The Other Island where I'm meant to be;
Looking past the horizon, don't care in which way
For the planet is round - will my gaze go astray,
It will fly over oceans, over countries and all,
It will cross any distance to answer the call
For I'm bound up with the Other Island.
The Other Island is nothing like this
One. Lies aloof from the tropical breeze,
And its colours are dim, that's what they say,
They say it is rainy or foggy all days,
There are too many people, mostly living abroad,
It's expensive, it's pompous and what-not...
But why would I care? I belong there by birth.
I'm not there to my grief - but I will, to my mirth;
Its glory is mine; I'm a part of it;
Its shame is my shame; I'm apart from it
Yet I'm bound up with the Other Island.
A farewell stare at the bottomless sky
From the black iron cage of my balcony. Why?
The fire is already high- the fire in my chest;
I will die in two days though my doctor is doing his best.
He believes he can help, and I wish he could;
Yet his eyes gave away all, and I understood.
I will die. Then reborn as a foreigner - that's the cost -
I will carry on as we always do (especially when lost),
I will find a way, I will nurse my dream,
Half-aware, half-dreaming, confused, until
I am bound for the Other Island.
And I'm bound to be bound for it.
Growing right under my balcony.
This palm is the first thing I can remember
As I look back at myself, young and slender.
I was lost, and saw the palm trunk
Glowing green in the tropical dark.
I remember it well though I was only four -
The first encounter with my never-be-home.
Yes, it was beautiful; yes, it was strange,
As the island still is, for it never changes
But I'm bound up with the Other Island.
The palm is still gorgeous, somewhere below -
Can't see it from here but I simply know.
Rich gathering green and the blue-green waters,
So clear is the sky, so gold is the sun - and what is
The point? I look over them, trying to see
The Other Island where I'm meant to be;
Looking past the horizon, don't care in which way
For the planet is round - will my gaze go astray,
It will fly over oceans, over countries and all,
It will cross any distance to answer the call
For I'm bound up with the Other Island.
The Other Island is nothing like this
One. Lies aloof from the tropical breeze,
And its colours are dim, that's what they say,
They say it is rainy or foggy all days,
There are too many people, mostly living abroad,
It's expensive, it's pompous and what-not...
But why would I care? I belong there by birth.
I'm not there to my grief - but I will, to my mirth;
Its glory is mine; I'm a part of it;
Its shame is my shame; I'm apart from it
Yet I'm bound up with the Other Island.
A farewell stare at the bottomless sky
From the black iron cage of my balcony. Why?
The fire is already high- the fire in my chest;
I will die in two days though my doctor is doing his best.
He believes he can help, and I wish he could;
Yet his eyes gave away all, and I understood.
I will die. Then reborn as a foreigner - that's the cost -
I will carry on as we always do (especially when lost),
I will find a way, I will nurse my dream,
Half-aware, half-dreaming, confused, until
I am bound for the Other Island.
And I'm bound to be bound for it.