Connect

    mail icontwitter iconBlogspot iconrss icon

Sport 9: Spring 1992

♣ Bernadette Hall — The Girl Who Sings Waterfalls

page 127

Bernadette Hall

The Girl Who Sings Waterfalls

for Kathryn

Narrator: This is the song of the girl
who sings waterfalls. The silky
syllables slip like water
from the top of her grey stone tower
where oilslick pigeons bellyflop off
the roof and sail across blue windows.
Like petals tilting light over dark
over light down pinkdrift aisles in a park.
Like syllables of snow. Woman: I love you. I love you. Man: I love you. I love you. Woman: I love you. I love you.
You are my mother and my father.
You are my child. Man: I love you. I love you.
You are my mother and my father.
You are my child. Woman: I am the child you always wanted. Man: I am the child you never had. Woman: I am the child who asks one question too many. Man: I am your shelter. Chorus: But. But. But. But.
You never can tell. You never can tell.
There are some things. There are other things.
It is too early yet. It is too late.
It is never too late. It is always too late.
page 128 Always and always.
Is that the same as forever?
Yes and no. Yes and no. So.
This is Mrs Liechtenstein. She lives in Scotland. This is
Mrs Scotland. She lives in Liechtenstein. No doubt it is a
very safe place in which to live. No doubt it is a very safe
place in which to die. Hello. Hello.
Goodbye. Goodbye. Narrator: Her song lifts like purple mist
on the Maniototo. Like larks
springing up from the roadside. Woman: You say that you love me. Man: Say that you love me. Woman: You say you love me only
putting none before me. Man: Say you love me only
putting none before me. Woman: I believe you. I believe you.
I believe you. I believe you. Man: You say you love me only
putting none before me.
In your voice
I hear the loneliness
of wind and rain. Woman: I do believe you. I did believe you. Man: I do believe you. I did believe you. Woman: I did believe you. I did believe you.
I did believe myself. But I have changed. Man: I did believe you. I did believe you.
But you have changed. Woman: You have not changed. Man: Was there a need? page 129 Woman: There was a need. Man: There was a promise. Woman: There was no promise. Man: There was a promise. Woman: There was never a promise.
How could there be? Man: I did not know there was no promise.
I did not understand. Woman: There is nothing to understand.
This is the way it is. This is the way it is.
This is the true shape of it. It is quite clear. Man: It is not clear. It is not clear at all. Woman: When I meet you now it is out of love.
Out of love. Man: Out of love. That is lovely. Woman: Outside of love. Chorus: Well. Well. Well. Well. Well.
Well I must say. I would too. Would you?
Take care. Take care of who? Of you.
Oh, thank you, thank you!
Who cares anyway?
If only. If only. If only. If only.
It's very tricky. That's what Dick says.
Dick would. Dick's a good chap. Dick's a scream.
He knows a thing or too. Or three or four. Or more.
You're quite sure? Usually! Narrator: She sings of mist rising out of deep gullies.
Of clouds, of rain. Of the sharp white blade
of the waterfall. Man: You said you needed space. You said you needed time.
You said you wanted to be free for a while.
You said there was no one else. page 130 Woman: You frighten me with your certainties.
How can I tell you the truth?
How can I tell you the truth?
How can I tell you the truth? Man: You have never told me the truth. Woman: How could I tell you the truth
before I knew what was true? Man: The truth is constant. Woman: The truth is always changing. Man: Then it cannot be true. Woman: It cannot be anything else. Man: You have driven me out of the house.
You have driven me out of the house.
You have driven me out of the house.
You have let her in. Chorus: Did you hear that? Did you hear that?
Did you see the look on his face?
Did you see the look on her face?
I could hardly believe my eyes!
I could hardly believe my ears!
There is no need. No need?
You know, to go on so. There is every need.
Oh, I don't know. I told you so. That's a lie.
I thought I'd better. You're very bitter.
Me, bitter? No way! That's better.
Better than nothing. Narrator: She sings of the honeysuckle
in its white enamelled shell.
Its yellow tongue. Its sweetness. Woman 2: Let us climb up to the light.
Let us climb up to the light. Woman: I recognise your pulse in any dark. Woman 2: Let down your hair. Let down your long hair.
page 131 Let it fall like a shawl around your shoulders. Woman: I think that I have dreamt you. Woman 2: I was waiting to be dreamt. Woman: You were beating like a bird inside my head. Man: Always I have held you in the highest of regards. Chorus: Regards from Liverpool! Regards from Rome!
Regards from Motukarara! Regards from home! Man: That is love. Woman 2: That is not love. Man: That is the highest form of love. Woman 2: That is not love. That is camaraderie. (To Woman)
Your hair is all labrador colours.
Your feet are bright as wheatfields. Chorus: So. So. So. So. What do you know!
She looks much younger. She looks much older.
She has found a new life. She's lost the old one. That goes
without saying. Who says?
Most people agree. We're not most people, are we?
I should hope not! I should say so!
Trouble. Trouble. Trouble. Trouble.
Well, you've got to haven't you?
What? What? What? What?
You've got to laugh. Or you'd cry.
You can say that again! Or you'd cry.
You can say that again! Or you'd cry. Man: I want you! I want you within me!
I want you to move within me!
You are my mother and my father.
You are my child. Woman: This is the circle of my arms.
This is a city within misty walls.
This is the circle of my belly.
This is a walled garden. page 132 Man: I saw the child's face in the window.
She was transfixed. Her eyes were huge.
She thought she saw . . . Woman: She did not see. She doesn't understand.
She has made a mistake. She is very very young. Man: There was a time when you would leap up
on my hard prick. Spearing yourself again
and again. Your head thrown back in laughter. Woman: Daily your face changes, your eyes brighter
than ice. These tears are the spears of your desire. Man: Your words shift like the colours
in a silk scarf. I would turn it round and round
and tightly round your curving neck. Woman: If I say what is true is untrue,
what is untrue, true
would it make things any easier? Man: I can turn this around.
I can turn this around.
As I turned you once,
a precious cup inside my hands. Woman: I see you turning around and around
like a dog in flattened grass
needing a nest to lie down in.
I will fly over rooves. Man: I will cling to the root. Woman: I will do some good deed. Man: In all these years you have never
said that you were sorry. Woman: I wish you no harm. You were my mother
and my father. You were my child. Man: You were always in charge. Chorus: It's beyond me. It's quite beyond me.
page 133 Quite. Quite. Quite. Quite. Quite.
Who's to blame, that's what I want to know?
There is no fault. There is no fault in this.
There is no virtue. There is no virtue in this.
And little pleasure.
Says who? Says you.
It will pass. I doubt it.
Things change. For the better. For the worse.
Who can say? You can say. You just did. Did I? Narrator: This is the song of the girl
who sings waterfalls. The silky
syllables slip like water
from the top of her grey stone tower
where oilslick pigeons bellyflop off
the roof and sail across blue windows.
Like petals tilting light over dark
over light down pinkdrift aisles in a park.
Like syllables of snow.
Her song lifts like purple mist
on the Maniototo. Like larks
springing up from the roadside.
She sings of mist rising out of deep gullies.
Of clouds, of rain. Of the sharp white blade
of the waterfall.
She sings of the honeysuckle
in its white enamelled shell.
Its yellow tongue. Its sweetness.
Carelessly she throws her song
like a bolt of silk from the blue window.
It lifts and sinks and lifts again
like the skin of a bubble you breathe into.