Fellow Mausicans, the poem was written around 1989-1990 after a nostalgic visit to the campus. I do hope you enjoy it.
MAUSICA
Where many hearts laboured
To learn a thing or two,
Where many an ear strained to hear a lecture,
Where many a book was first read,
No voices now whisper, no eyes mark the hour,
All’s dead! All’s dead at Mausica.
That you have gone now is a shame
For the campus will never be the same
The very grass and trees will,
Together with the breeze miss you Mausicans
The placid sunrise weeps for the viewing of your eyes
The night sky, ruled by the moon,
Is out of tune without your laughter.
Oh Mausicans who were a world within my chambers,
A world alive like any other campus for the young
Full of mischief and thrills
A world of laughter and of singing,
A world of playing and of learning…
But, alas that world has passed,
My world is now of gloom
Standing here I am a tomb.
Down my halls and corridors children, born of my walls
Have passed, to go forth ‘A nation through service moulding’
That they have gone now to do their duty
And no more will be coming
Leaves me a blossom without beauty
Except for the graffiti of memories
Etched into the faded paints of my walls.
For I have been that ‘Sacred Place’
Where once the Villa Novans, the Wingatians
And the girls from Kirkendale too
Pondered on the mischief Mayfarian boys would do
Where Fairhaven men, with many a Sunset Villa friend
Fought many a blanket fight against Mayfair’s might
Where young hearts laughed pain and fear away
Where songs were sung each and every day.
Goddess of gloom if concrete and steel could weep
Tears would flood each and every room
Where Mausicans once trod
From the Refectory to the Sunset Gallery
My grief would overflow for the entire world to know.
How now the grass is over grown
Where your footsteps were known?
Where Agri-students each had a plot
Where young hearts in love
Knew jubilation and hurt.
The powers that be passed a decree
That none must come anymore
To step upon my floor
As you have done.
They decreed that I should die
And your numbers never grow.
So no more will young student teachers come
To grace and torture sixty-five acres.
No more will the tears and fears of the initiates
As happened in 70/72 when you the poet were there
Float in the air and become a part of the atmosphere of Mausica.
And calypsos great none again will create within my walls
And folk singers will never again turn to swingers upon the stage
And Divali lights will not ever again be first lit at Mausica
And Radio Mayfair will never again broadcast
They have done their last, the end has come to past.
And in six hostels no more study groups
To come before snores.
No more flooding on the lower floors.
No more parties, no more snacks,
No more apparatus to be made
Where Mausicans once laid.
Ah Mausicans, the very flies you used to know
Miss you also.
The sugar cane around the fence
Finds no recompense in your absence.
The track that took males to and fro female hostels
Never again would know footsteps soft and eager
Oh Ahhhhhh……….All’s dead at Mausica.
If walls could crumble at will
Mine will not be standing still
For my children have all gone afar
And all’s dead at Mausica.
All’s dead! All’s dead at Mausica?
Ah but my spirit lingers
In your hearts, my children, for
Wherever in the world you are
Every Mausican is ever Mausica.
Mikal Smart (70/72)
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