Withered is the green palm
C. Cadman
Withered is the green palm,
Broken is the bamboo,
Fallen is the strong one;
On the surf at sunset
His canoe rides empty,
His canoe rides empty!
On his grave I lay him
Tamarind and mango;
O'er his grave at midnight,
call I through the darkness.
He hears not my calling,
He hears not my call, my call!