The Snake-Charmer's Life

O charmer, where do you lie playing the wooden been music, Playing so haunting music And the cobras dancing to the tume of, Swaying, I mean the cobras, White, black and chocolate-coloured! You tasting the soil, smelling and guessing When without the been And catching them By making smell a root And the cobras let slip into the bamboo basket. Risking your life, playing with dangers, show you the spectacle, But what do you get At the market-places Keeping company with the deadly snakes Whose mere bit can be fatal and may even claim for But they understand it not. The lookers-on give not the money And live you poorly, Somehow maintaining the family, Ill-fed and ill-clothed, But the Bombayan film-makers and musicians Stealing the music earn they well. Sometimes coobras bite they and lose you Your precious life in faith And the magic fails it.