Das besondere Gedicht
After the Leaving…
There are two countries here: One securely meets the eye; The other binds your heart.
This is Perth, and yet Malacca. Outside, suddenly spring arrives In many wild, surprising flowers. But no chempaka, no melor Show that beauty of the heart. You have lost more hair, though Your spectacles perch as usual, Looking quizzical, slightly anxious.
Beyond King's Park, the Swan Whose neck nestles among vineyards, Ministers to your dreaming home To which I go again, in ceremony, Remembering... your ukulele Mastering the restless crabs, Sunset upon the brow of Panteh 2; Our shared tobacco; images of
Heroic days, court and kampong; That great Tranquerah mosque, St Paul's Hill, Sam Po's Well, And other abodes of our gods.
But here the roads are happily Waltzing with Matilda, leading Through miles of bush to Laverton, Abandoned mines, receding purple hills.
And as you hear the recurring Soul of Voss adventuring Ayers Rock, The Dream-time, purifying deserts, Shore, sky and hinterland are yours.
But you return to Heeren Street, Ancestral rooms, intricate histories, Starting with a distant fracture Of law, of order one quiet noon
Along uncoiling Amoy Streets, Where the migrant, restless spirit Took passion to an alien land. You feel a deep possession. Seven generations of the blood Have stirred into the earth, Gave sinew, fought fevers. Held down swamps, added Fertile patterns to the land, Made the dragon speak The brown language of the Constant, Southern winds.
After the riots and the edicts, You cried in the days of blight. To leave again, after seven generations, You must know so bitterly, Is surely to return.
Edwin Nadason Thumboo
