She had, she had
a first-rate Chandannagar.
She had, she had
a well-built Chandannagar.
Only for me, only for me
did she unveil her cashmere,
her gardens, her wealthy neigbourhood,
and her Chandannagar at last.
In these circumstances,
no way I would have
left the Indian trading posts.
She had, she had
two plentiful Yanams.
She had, she had
two fresh and round Yanams,
and only I, and only I
ventured into her bush,
her wold, her vales,
her hills of Yanam.
In these circumstances,
no way I would have
left the Indian trading posts.
She had, she had
an awkward Karaikal.
She had, she had
a moody Karaikal.
Still at night I reached
her nirvāṇa regularily,
all this despite
her bloody Karaikal.
In these circumstances,
no way I would have
left the Indian trading posts.
She had, she had
a small and frail Mahé.
She had, she had,
a small and hidden Mahé,
but I had to quench
my fires in the monsoon,
and rouse, rouse myself from
the delights of Mahé.
In these circumstances,
no way I would have
lingered in the Indian trading posts.
She had, she had
an easy Pondicherry.
She had, she had
a welcoming Pondicherry.
She soon, she soon
showed a new tourist
around her trading post,
her flora and her geography.
In these circumstances,
no way I'll see again
the Indian trading posts.