Under The Bamboo Tree

Bob Cole, J. Rosamund Johnson.

Down in the jungles lived a maid,
Of royal blood though dusky shade,
A marked impression once she made,
Upon a Zulu from Matabooloo;
And ev’ry morning he would be
Down underneath the bamboo tree,
Awaiting there his love to see
And then to her he’d sing:

If you lak-a-me lak I lak-a-you
And we lak-a-both the same,
I lak-a-say, this very day,
I lak-a change your name;
’Cause I love-a-you and love-a you true
And if you-a love-a me,
One live as two, two live as one,
Under the bamboo tree.

And in this simple jungle way,
He wooed the maiden ev’ry day,
By singing what he had to say;
One day he seized her and gently squeezed her.
And then beneath the bamboo green,
He begged her to become his queen;
The dusky maiden blushed unseen
And joined him in his song.

Chorus

This little story strange but true,
Is often told in Mataboo,
Of how this Zulu tried to woo
His jungle lady in tropics shady;
Although the scene was miles away,
Right here at home I dare to say,
You’ll hear some Zulu ev’ry day,
Gush out this soft refrain:

Chorus