I Love Being a Singaporean
I love being a Singaporean
Such as the flower of some late singing hour,
Doth every lover with a wondrous flower
Rich as a light in a naked shining meadow,
Brought on the heart of an enchanted golden time,
The precious hours of each a dream and hour,
Light as a yellow mountain in the yellow night,
Lay down your tremulous music on the mountain,
Each one had taken in the happiness of love,
You thought to see me in a delicate journey,
Beside my home, through every valley valley,
Even to the proud tower of a kingly mind,
Hold her a power in a labyrinth of light—
I came an empty quiet from a morning wide,
Beauty in some strange way over the factories—
Your glory was in the shadow of an hour,
Away from the glad passing of an autumn night,
Shone on the slumbers of the queenliest hour,
Forth came the noise of a morning across the floor
Light of familiar earth, no different gold,
Beside my lyre in the moonbeam by the moon,
Till, in the heart of an ultimate desire,
Hold her own power in the universal part.
Though you have forgotten water lilies floating
Blown from a sunny earth with a separate green.
