“Mandalay” by Rudyard Kipling
(1890)
1.
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin’ lazy at the sea,
There’s a Burma girl a-settin’, and I know she thinks o’ me;
For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say;
“Come you back, you British Soldier; come you back to Mandalay!” 
Come you back to Mandalay, 
Where the old Flotilla lay; 
Can’t you ‘ear their paddles clunkin’ from Rangoon to Mandalay? 
On the road to Mandalay, 
Where the flyin’-fishes play, 
An’ the dawn comes up like thunder outer China ‘crost the Bay!
2.
‘Er petticoat was yaller an’ ‘er little cap was green,
An’ ‘er name was Supi-Yaw-Lat jes’ the same as Theebaw’s Queen,
An’ I seed her first a-smokin’ of a whackin’ white cheroot,
An’ wastin’ Christian kisses on an ‘eathen idol’s foot: 
Bloomin’ idol made o’ mud– 
Wot they called the Great Gawd Budd– 
Plucky lot she cared for idols when I kissed ‘er where she stud! 
On the road to Mandalay …
3.
When the mist was on the rice-fields an’ the sun was droppin’ slow,
She’d git ‘er little banjo an’ she’d sing “Kulla-la-lo!”
With ‘er arm upon my shoulder an’ ‘er cheek again my cheek
We useter watch the steamers an’ the hathis pilin’ teak. 
Elephants a-piling teak 
In the sludgy, squdgy creek, 
Where the silence ‘ung that ‘eavy you was ‘arf afraid to speak! 
On the road to Mandalay …
4.
But that’s all shove be’ind me — long ago and fur away,
An’ there ain’t no ‘buses runnin’ from the Bank to Mandalay;
An’ I’m learnin’ ‘ere in London what the ten-year soldier tells:
“If you’ve ‘eard the East a-callin’, you won’t never ‘eed naught else.” 
No! you won’t ‘eed nothin’ else 
But them spicy garlic smells, 
An’ the sunshine an’ the palm-trees an’ the tinkly temple-bells; 
On the road to Mandalay …
5.
I am sick ‘o wastin’ leather on these gritty pavin’-stones,
An’ the blasted English drizzle wakes the fever in my bones;
Tho’ I walks with fifty ‘ousemaids outer Chelsea to the Strand,
An’ they talks a lot o’ lovin’, but wot do they understand? 
Beefy face an’ grubby ‘and– 
Law! wot do they understand? 
I’ve a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land! 
On the road to Mandalay . . .
6.
Ship me somewheres east of Suez, where the best is like the worst,
Where there ain’t no Ten Commandments an’ a man can raise a thirst;
For the temple-bells are callin’, and it’s there that I would be–
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, looking lazy at the sea; 
On the road to Mandalay, 
Where the old Flotilla lay, 
With our sick beneath the awnings when we went to Mandalay! 
O the road to Mandalay, 
Where the flyin’-fishes play, 
An’ the dawn comes up like thunder outer China ‘crost the Bay!