Mariana on the Flowery Hill By esoror/rorose Mariana was a lovely girl, Sitting upon the flowery hill. She would have been prettier, If she had ever smiled. But she always hid her face In the greatest sorrow. When the village children passed her by, They would chuckle and chant, "There sits our Mariana, Waiting for her lover back again. That one's gone to town, for three years, But never came back As he'd promised." Mariana would dully reply, "My life is dreary, and he comes not; I am weary, weary, I would that I were dead!" A woman o' th' next village pass'd her by, She heard the children's song, And Mariana's cry. Deeply moved by such a sight, The woman came to her and said, "Mariana, do not cry so hard, Once thing has lost is lost, There's no way to make amend. Just think about what you've remained; You'll find that you still get many in your hands!" Mariana kindly replied, "With all my grief I appreciate your kindness; But I've got nothing-- Nothing in my life! All my parents were dead, no relatives left; The last one I've believed Also have fooled me! My life is dreary, no one cares about me; I am weary, weary, I would that I were dead!" "Be you not so depressed, Mariana," That woman smiled to her, "I come here to invite you, To make a short visit in my place. It may be queer, such kind of invitation, But I make it with all my heart. I live in the next village, What accompanies me is a big farm Left by my husband. In the late o' th' night I often feel lonely, Since I ain't got a son, nor have I a daughter. I just heard about your story, such a tragedy, So I decided to invite you to come with me. If you come, I'd be no longer lonely, And I'll assure you won't feel lonesome, For I'll take care of you, as your kindred do! In my farmyard, there're many aminals you can play with; Chickens, cows, and sheeps. Farming is the thing you can learn to do, And might be good to let you out of sorrow. Dear Mariana, will you come to visit me? I hope to see you soon, In my farmhouse next to your village!" Mariana said that she would answer her Three days later, and it was known, She has finally come to the woman's. However, as we know, Life's always a winding road, The happy ending for Mariana, There's still a long way to go. Mariana became a busy girl, Working down the flowery hill. She had some companions, Jack, Betty, June, & Phil. All of them worked for the woman And were paid by monthly bills. Each day they had to work Fourteen hours or more. Hard work would bring them bonus But sickness would less the reward. Mariana was busy like a bee, Taking care of chickens, cows, and sheeps. Work & sleep went first in her life; What she'd called misery before Was left behind almost. She did not become happier, Nor she became prettier. Mariana grew thiner & thiner, Refused to eat anything. She only said, "My life is dreary, I can't change it a bit; I am weary, weary, I wish that I were dead!" Mariana was a quiet girl, Reposed on the flowery hill. No one chuckled anymore; No one chanted anymore. Like a stone thrown into a lake, The universe is stirred a little But will soon be calm again. Note: A few lines are adapted from Alfred Lord Tennyson's poem "Mariana."(1830) 24 Aug, 1999 slightly revised at Sep 2001. -- This is originally the second part of "Song from a Storyteller." Since this long poem didn't finish, for the present time this part is independently published as "Mariana on the Flowery Hill." --

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