Serenading (Rev)

So I’m awarding Rogers and Hammerstein a Nobel
Prize for making me feel better after a devastating
nightmare last night, with Hanlie and Ntsoaki going
along enthusiastically - while Annette and Hermien
ignore my levity with a stolid, stony silence driving
me from Maria I have Confidence right into Simon
& Garfunkel’s The Sound Of Silence, with a black

Nothingness threatening - yet - serenading myself
quietly, I remember Hanlie’s twinkling Tinker Bell &
Fairy Dell words that if we ignore all others we can
soar; thus countering with impish mischievousness
I launch into The Donkey’s Serenade - And all that
the ladies can say is e-e-aaaaaaw - which must be
heard with Mario Lanza lovingly stretching the note

And to cover my tracks but teasing my colleagues,
I hum Guantanamera, Yo soy un’ traductor sincero
de donde crece la palma - because I’m really such
a sincere translator with palm trees at my home –
even when I forget the stoic Spartan attitude of the
serious translation crew in the next act of my much-
maligned Government Service Opera…

[Donkey Serenade:
“There's a song in the air, but the fair senorita doesn't
care so I'll sing to my mule, La bella senorita? Si, si,
mi muchachito, she'd love to sing it too - but all that
the lady can say: is “e-e-aw!"]