another reason to love George Orwell

Ironic Poem About Prostitution
George Orwell

When I was young and had no sense
In far-off Mandalay
I lost my heart to a Burmese girl
As lovely as the day.

Her skin was gold, her hair was jet,
Her teeth were ivory;
I said, "for twenty silver pieces,
Maiden, sleep with me."

She looked at me, so pure, so sad,
The loveliest thing alive,
And in her lisping, virgin voice,
Stood out for twenty-five.

Posting this because Shahril and Zhen Hwang asked to.

The thing about George Orwell is, his words mean different things each time you read them. There are so many layers, so many angles, so many interpretations. But most importantly, this poem brings out bitter laughter, a damn hard emotion to evoke. You laugh, but inside, you're sad that a girl with such outward innocence can be bought (and not even in gold). I can only wish I can write like him. So much depth in so little words. Questioning the appearance of purity (or lack thereof), capturing a part of colonial Vietnam, giving true emotion to one of the most hated of industries (though the most eternally flourishing). And yet we laugh at this desecration of virginity.

Please, read it aloud, as I did. Lovely rhythm and rhyme.

I quote a girl who heard me: I love your poem! When I hear, feel like, seduced.

I suppose Mr. Orwell gets most of the credit...

She actually said 'seduced'! :D :D :D