Spinning Song
Pamdini:My sisters plucked green leaves at mornTo deck the garden swing,And donned their shining golden veilsFor the Festival of Spring. . . .But sweeter than the new-blown vines,And the call of nesting birdsAre the tendrils of your hair, Beloved,And the music of your words.
Mayura:My sisters sat beside the hearthKneading the saffron cakes,They gathered honey from the hivesFor the Festival of Snakes. . . .Why should I wake the jewelled lordsWith offerings or vows,Who wear the glory of your loveLike a jewel on my brows?
Sarasvati:My sisters sang at evenfallA hymn of ancient rites,And kindled rows of silver lampsFor the Festival of Lights. . . .But I leaned against the lattice-doorTo watch the kindling skies,And praised the gracious gods, Beloved,For the beauty of your eyes.
Words in this poem
- morn n.
- The first part of the day; the morning; -- used chiefly in poetry. [OE. morwen, morgen, AS. morgen; akin to D. morgen, OS. morgan, G. morgen, Icel. morginn, morgunn, Sw. morgon, Dan. morgen, Goth. maúrgins. Cf. Morrow, Morning.]
- evenfall n.
- Beginning of evening.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Spinning Song is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Bird of Time: Songs of Life, Death & the Spring (London: William Heinemann; New York: John Lane Company, 1912), Wikisource; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Sarojini Naidu, Spinning Song, in The Bird of Time: Songs of Life, Death & the Spring (1912), text of Wikisource, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/naidu-bird-of-time/spinning-song.html, id L27544.
Form and metre
Spinning Song is 27 lines in 3 stanzas of 9 lines each. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 90%).
See other poems in iambic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 --A-A-B-B pamdini · morn · swingA · veils · springA · vines · birdsB · beloved · wordsB
- 2 --A-A-B-B mayura · hearth · cakesA · hives · snakesA · lords · vowsB · love · browsB
- 3 --A-A-B-B sarasvati · evenfall · ritesA · lamps · lightsA · door · skiesB · beloved · eyesB
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Pamdini: | 3 | ··· |
| My sisters plucked green leaves at morn | 9 | ·/˘·˘···· |
| To deck the garden swing, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| And donned their shining golden veils | 9 | ··˘·/˘/˘· |
| For the Festival of Spring. . . . | 7 | ··/˘˘·· |
| But sweeter than the new-blown vines, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| And the call of nesting birds | 7 | ····/˘· |
| Are the tendrils of your hair, Beloved, | 10 | ·······˘/˘ |
| And the music of your words. | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Mayura: | 2 | ·· |
| My sisters sat beside the hearth | 8 | ·/˘·˘/·· |
| Kneading the saffron cakes, | 6 | /˘·/˘· |
| They gathered honey from the hives | 9 | ·/˘˘/˘··· |
| For the Festival of Snakes. . . . | 7 | ··/˘˘·· |
| Why should I wake the jewelled lords | 9 | ·····/˘˘· |
| With offerings or vows, | 6 | ·/˘˘·· |
| Who wear the glory of your love | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Like a jewel on my brows? | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Sarasvati: | 4 | ···· |
| My sisters sang at evenfall | 8 | ·/˘··/˘˘ |
| A hymn of ancient rites, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| And kindled rows of silver lamps | 9 | ·/˘˘··/˘· |
| For the Festival of Lights. . . . | 7 | ··/˘˘·· |
| But I leaned against the lattice-door | 10 | ···˘···/˘· |
| To watch the kindling skies, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| And praised the gracious gods, Beloved, | 10 | ··˘·/˘·˘/˘ |
| For the beauty of your eyes. | 7 | ··/˘··· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.