This back-stage world is not for me.
why spend in shade the fleeting hours..
While out there lies a sunlit stage.
where I can roam among the flowers?
So in the morning when I view.
the cold and leaden light of day..
My mind departs this drizzling isle..
and takes the road to Mandalay.
Now in the dawn the city looks,
with all the silver mist that shrouds..
The gold pagodas and the trees,
as if it floats among the clouds..
While fairy bluebirds fly about.
I feast on spiky dragon fruit.
And smell sweet frangipani trees.
that line the dusty, winding route.
Once ivory men in palanquins
were ferried round upon this street.
While natives toiled in paddy fields.
and sweated in the summer heat.
Those far off days when Englishmen.
would go out in the midday sun.
And wander 'round exploring jungles
with a handglass and a gun.
And though upon the Empire now.
the sun has well and truly set.
Those times I spent in Mandalay.
are ones that I cannot forget.
I still recall the stifling air
that in the day hung thick as musk.
And how the temples on the hill
would shimmer in the purple dusk!
And when I lie and dream at night
the temple bells they seem to say.
"Come you back you, British soldier
Come you back to Mandalay.