நாதம் என் ஜீவனே #2
The whole of the 60s saw Janaki struggle for recognition in Tamil Film Music. Though she enriched each song that came her way with dainty touches and inventive improvisations that showed her class, save some rare exceptions, she had to be content to remain in the sidelines. It was only in the 70s, that she found the doors of Tamil cinema opening grudgingly....
As we all know, 1976 was a defining year for Tamil Film Music, for it marked the arrival of Ilaiyaraja. Tamil Film Music would never be the same again. In fact, many tend to view Tamil Film Music in two distinct timeframes - Pre-Ilaiyaraja and Post-Ilaiyaraja. The arrival of Ilaiyaraja had far reaching consequences.
MSV found himself suddenly removed from centre stage (though he would continue to give many excellent songs for some more years). Vijayabhaskar, who had 6 films in 1975, had only 2 in 1976 and the numbers dwindled as the years went by. V.Kumar, who had much left in him, found his career abruptly cut short. K.V. Mahadevan would continue to show flashes of his former self in a few films here and there, but then he had plenty of films in Telugu. Shankar-Ganesh were the only ones not really affected - they never had any pretensions to greatness - they were all along working for small-budget/B-grade films (with some excellent exceptions, of course) – and these films continued to fall on their lot in greater numbers.
So, steadily and surely, Ilaiyaraja became "The Name Above The Title". No composer had wielded so much clout before. Most of the big banners, big films, new-wave directors, and many of the veteran ones too, latched on to him. The sheer numbers of his films speak volumes of how his popularity increased multifold in those early years- 4 in 1976, 12 in 1977, 21 in 1978 and 25 in 1979! In the coming years, these numbers would only increase more and more.
And with Ilaiyaraja, came S. Janaki with an emphatic bang. She had waited in the sidelines for too long and this was the moment she was waiting for. Ilaiyaraja was her messiah to glory, fame and critical acclaim. With "Machanai Paartheengala" and "Annakili Unnai Theduthey", she secured overnight the adulation and recognition that had eluded her for 20 years- (Her first song was released in 1957). Janaki had arrived, finally. And she would only grow from strength to strength, and would firmly hang on to the numero uno position for at least the next decade. After 20 years of being in the industry, she won her first National award in 1977 for her "Sendhoora poovey". She bagged the TN State Government award too for 1977. The Janaki juggernaut, with Illayaraja in the driver's seat, had started on its historic journey.
During his years under the tutelage of G.K. Venkatesh, Ilaiyaraja had witnessed firsthand the astute comprehension skills, remarkable range and versatility of Janaki. Janaki was GKV’s favorite singer and Ilaiyaraja had always found his interactions with Janaki highly enriching, for she was totally devoid of airs and delivered the desired nuances with disarming ease. During those years, Raja was playing the guitar and combo-organ regularly for many Malayalam composers as well, and observed the high regard that even revered stalwarts like Dakshinamoorthi Swami held for Janaki. During the recording sessions with Swami, Raja had opportunities aplenty to observe the effortlessness with which Janaki got the intricacies of Swami’s compositions right and the wholesome praise that came from the venerable Guru.
Janaki too found a kindred soul in Ilaiyaraja, for even as an assistant to G.K. Venkatesh, Ilaiyaraja had impressed her with the meticulous manner in which he would explain to her the notes and nuances. The rapport that developed thus between Ilaiyaraja and Janaki paved the way for a magnificent alliance when IR arrived with ‘Annakkili’, the album that rewrote history. Those momentous years saw Ilaiyaraja reserving his choicest creations for Janaki, and the gifted singer struck gold every time she brought alive with iridescent hues Raja’s captivating canvas. And over the decades, Janaki has quite understandably remained the singer to have rendered the most number of Raja’s compositions. Simply put, if Raja was the muse, Janaki was the voice.
I had halted yesterday at the threshold of the Raja-Janaki era, as reams have already been written here and elsewhere on the famed Raja-Janaki collaborations. At the request of some friends here, presenting today a bouquet of some vivid blooms…..some marvels from the Raja-Janaki treasuries that beckoned to me as I sat to write this morning…..
* * * * * *
The sequence is this: She is working as a governess in a rich Christian household, taking care of a mentally unstable boy who had lost his mother. The boy had always suffered from behavioral issues, with an uncontrollable temper. Added to that, he is now carrying the guilt of causing his mother’s demise. She finds the going tough, as he remains brooding, taciturn and spurns her affectionate overtures. She is heartbroken at her failure, and weeps for the helpless boy. She finally breaks into an emotional plea to Mother Mary to show them the way forward, and give succor to the wretched child…
Those were the early years of Ilaiyaraja. He had captured the imagination of the Tamil populace with his refreshing scores, amazing amalgam of folk and western classical music and orchestration of a hitherto unheard scale of intricate grandeur. Each album was eagerly awaited and celebrated with great fanfare.
For the song that I am now talking of, Vaali wrote the lyrics and Ilaiyaraja set the tune. As always, the notation sheets were distributed, rehearsals done. Janaki came and was given the lines. She went in for the ‘take’. What followed next was narrated by a bemused Maestro in an interview several years later…
Janaki rendered the Pallavi, the first interlude was played and she thereafter sang the first line of the first Charanam, and stopped. A pin- drop silence ensued. A bewildered Ilaiyaraja peeped in and stopped, aghast. The instrumentalists watched, not knowing what to do. Janaki was seen wiping away the tears that were flowing from her eyes! Seeing Ilaiyaraja, she managed a sheepish smile. ‘Sorry!’ she stammered, ‘I was so overwhelmed by the lines and sheer beauty of the composition; my emotions must have got the better of me… I couldn’t sing any further’.
After ensuring that she had regained her composure, Ilaiyaraja signaled for the recording to recommence. What happened this time was another unprecedented interruption. As Janaki was singing the Charanam, an amazed Ilaiyaraja noted that some of the instrumentalists had simply stopped playing! This time, his irate enquiries yielded another unexpected explanation- the musicians, many of them, veterans in their field, said in unison that they were so enchanted by Janaki’s singing that they missed their cue, and could only listen on, spellbound….
Third time lucky, the song was recorded.
The movie, as among many of those that Ilaiyaraja wasted his prodigious talents on, bombed at the box office. Yet this song remains enshrined in the annals of Tamil film history as one of the finest collaborations of the maestro and his prima donna. Set in a haunting Revati, with the Veena and Violin playing in tantalizing tandem, Janaki, who once famously said that playback singing is more playback emoting, makes us ashamed for all the years when she was inexplicably sidelined in Tamil cinema.
Music such as this has its moorings in emotions and feelings!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GiVWpwTelmY
* * * * * *
Now for a diamond of rare vintage that remains cunningly hidden in a little explored crevice, beneath a multitude of magnificent gems...
A song where a mischievous Raja taunts and teases, toying with Mohanam, Hamsanandham, Amirthavarshini, egging them on in the hide and seek that they play with us at the wave of his wand….. the violins, flute, bass guitar, even the sudden delightful movements on the veena coat resplendent hues on to this black & white number….Raja the dream-weaver- the sublime space that he seems to touch at will remains annoyingly elusive for most of us…
And yes, I cannot be pardoned if I do not mention the Diva… the second interlude that opens with her Kuhukku humming-both the beckoning and answering calls by that cornucopia of talent - followed by that immortal string portion can never be erased from memory… A song. A soiree. A sepia- toned signature of the sorcerer.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1thQz0vpjp4
* * * * * *
Even before being besotted by Tamil Film Music, there was one music that I already knew and liked, and it was ABBA. As a child, I used to watch wonderingly while my elder cousins played ABBA albums all day long. They learned the lyrics by-heart and sang along, and discussed the songs animatedly. More surprising was that even my father was drawn by the magic- I still have with me the TDK cassette in which he had got recorded the ABBA songs that he liked- on the sleeve he had jotted down in his distinct writing the list of tracks. I remember reading ‘Voulez vous’ and puzzling over its pronunciation. I was too young to follow the lyrics, but was mesmerized by the music. Even now when I happen to catch ‘I have a dream’ or ‘Fernando’ or ‘Chiquitita’ on the local FM’s late night requests, I go back to those days when Björn, Benny, Agnetha and Anni-Frid had the world in their trance.
And one such timeless number of ABBA is ‘Money Money Money’.
Money, money, money
Must be funny
In the rich man's world
Written jointly by Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus, the song was released as a single on 1 November 1976, as the follow-up to "Dancing Queen" (both from the album Arrival). Needless to say, it was an instant chart-buster.
When I, much like the multitudes of my generation, came under the spell of Ilaiyaraja’s magic, I commenced combing the music shops in Madras for the Maestro’s albums. All the sparse money that came my way went in getting cassettes recorded with Ilaiyaraja’s songs and playing them over and over again, night and day. It was in an obscure little shop hidden in the labyrinth of the ancient streets of North Madras that I came across the vinyl record of a forgotten 1980 Tamil movie called Thaipongal. I lost no time in getting the songs recorded.
Coming after the two equally alluring versions (Yesudas & Jency) of ‘Theertha karaithanile’ and the caressing Vasu- Shailaja number ‘Pani vizhum poo nilavil’, I was pleasurably surprised to find a dazzling duet whose opening lines bore a startling resemblance to ABBA’a ‘Money Money Money’. Only the opening, though. Ilaiyaraja clutches on to ABBA’s opening notes and then charts a majestic course of his own…With a Baroque style violin/cello start, the delightful tune and the opulent arrangements mesmerize at every turn, every twist.
I am not a great fan of Ilaiyaraja the singer and am steadfast in my view that he ought not to have rendered many of the songs that he did. Yet, I am coaxed to believe that he has acquitted himself rather well here. Perhaps it was the salubrious presence of his prima donna that brought out the best in him…With Janaki at the other end, the co-singer has little to do, for the song is already a winner.
Aah...the value that the blessed chanteuse bestows upon the composition! The wily Ilaiyaraja keeps her presence a secret until the Charanam, and when she does appear, it like a Vanilla ice cream topping over piping hot Jamuns! She is at her seductive best here, her lines soaked in lust and longing...and stamps her class on every note, every nauance…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bNzC10Lztl4
* * * * * *
A forgotten song from a forgotten Tamil movie from the early 80s- Archanai Pookkal. I remember catching the movie on one of the myriad cable channels sometime in the 90s. It was a sensitively crafted tale of the family of the temple priest and the young doctor who sets up practice in the same village.
It was the most prolific period of the Maestro, almost every Friday saw the release of one (at times even more than one) new movie bedecked with Raja’s songs. In this surfeit of aural extravaganza, it was but natural that some of the Maestro’s marvels never made it the marquee of attention and lie buried deep in the sands of time.
Take this song as case in point. The doctor and the daughter of the priest find themselves falling in love. The shy, reticent girl struggles to express her feelings. A past tragedy in the family and the fear of hurting her conservative father restrain her …she longs for the man to take the initiative….this is the sequence for the song….
‘I wait with expectant eyes, pray darken my threshold, oh cloud! Drench me with a downpour of bliss and let the exultation widen my sky!’ writes lyricist Vaali. The lines go on to describe her dreams of her love finding acceptance and the dawn of the joyous day of their marriage… and the days of the marital bliss that are to follow.
Raja sees that the opening lines refer to the cloud and rain, and sets them astutely to Raga Amritavarshini traversing beautifully to Bhoopalam and settling to a magnificent Panthuvarali. Listen to how the Chendai, Mirudangam and Tabla work in tandem to bring a euphonic experience of drops of falling rain…
Who else but the blessed Janaki to portray the tremulous yearning, the hope laced with a tinge of despair, the hastening speed of her lines trying to draw nearer the dreams of a distant joy….
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kQkmp-8Tfkw
* * * * * *
At times, words fail me when I wonder about Janaki the singer, and the person...what a hugely talented singer she was... and what a nice person she was/is! This song is a standing testimony to both....
Thoongaathey Thambi Thoongaathey was a 1983 Diwali release from the AVM stable. An eminently forgettable 'masala' movie with Kamalhasan playing a double role....One of the roles was of a foreign-returned youth trying to take charge of his vast properties in India.. the unscupulous manager and staff of his estates who had been making merry in his absence want to ensure that he does not interfere in their illegal activities...hence when he suffers a minor injury, they get him hooked to drugs to get over the pain.. and he gradually turns a drug addict...
For a song sequence depicting the drug induced psychedelic hallucinations of this youth, Ilaiyaraja came up with a superbly-orchestrated composition, and Vaali wrote the song 'Vaanam keezhe vandhaal enna'
S.P.Balasubramaniam arrived and the recording commenced... Ilayaraja shook his head in dissatisfaction...something was amiss...the chorus humming by a group of females did not bring out the effect that Ilaiyaraja wanted... Succeeding retakes only added to the maestro's frustration...
Our lady had just entered the studio as she had been engaged to sing two duets with SPB for the movie...it took her a glance to understand the tension filled atmosphere, and a listen to understand the underlying cause... 'Shall I try?' she asked with a smile.. Ilaiyaraja's brow cleared, SPB gave a knowing grin...Janaki rendered the humming in different pitches...the master synchronized them all and inserted them all over the song... and viola....wasn't this the magical effect he had dreamed of.... And of course, when the producers offered to pay her for this song as well, our lady refused with a gleeful chuckle...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hOQ00hr-jUE
* * * * * *
At the height of his magnificent career, Ilaiyaraja was persuaded by his well-wishers that he needed a break. Initially reluctant, the maestro agreed, but on the condition that it would be a pilgrimage to Europe to visit the places where revered masters such as Bach, Mozart, Brahms and Beethoven lived and composed.
As part of that unforgettable 1983 tour, he requested his friends - ‘Air India’ Gopal and Professor Jamal to arrange for him to meet with the famous French composer and conductor, Paul Mauriat.
Mauriat would not condescend to see anyone so easily, they were told. Gopal forwarded to Jamal a resume of our Maestro and after several phone calls, Jamal succeeded in getting Mauriat agree to meet Ilaiyaraja one afternoon for ‘just 5 minutes’. Ilaiyaraja entered Mauriat’s composing chamber, laden with gifts- a statuette of Lord Krishna, a sandalwood garland and a few cassettes of his songs. As Ilaiyaraja and Mauriat started conversing on the greatness of Carnatic Music, they dwelt deep into technicalities such as micro tones and Indian rhythm patterns. Afternoon gave way to evening and the two were still engrossed in enriching exchange of ideas… Mauriat took Ilaiyaraja to his ‘Listening Room’ downstairs, and as Ilaiyaraja played cassettes of his compositions, Mauriat closed his eyes in blissful enjoyment and declared that ‘he had never heard anything like this earlier!’….
And the song that had elicited excited words of wholesome praise from Paul Mauriat- ‘Edho Moham’ from the 1983 Tamil movie Kozhi Koovuthu.
The song is a ballad of love, lust and longing, of dreams and desires, of guilt and redemption… the newly-arrived young postman and the guileless rustic lass find themselves strongly attracted to each other… they cannot fathom the inexplicable torrent of emotions and yearnings that are remorseless in their assault…the song is a raconteur of this restless torment, a voyeur into this village rhapsody…
I have my friends, many of them who have partaken deep of the nectar of Western Classical Music, stumble for words while describing the structure of the intricate composition- chord changes, harmonic progression, arpeggio movements, Ostinati and String stabs during flute calls, Congo rhythm, sheer silence. … all these and more, they say in awed tones, have gone into this marvel, this miracle…Memories flood in of nights when we used to listen to treasures such as these in repeat mode and discuss each note, each nuance with wonder...
Janaki, as usual, is the voice for the maestro’s muse…. all through her remarkable rendition, she reflects the urgency of the pining, the surreptitious thoughts that come unbidden, the helpless despair, the piquant perplexity…
And yes, there is this Piccolo that plays the opening tune to set the stage for the drama that unfolds, and Janaki croons, in hushed whispers, the opening lines in the same tune...as she sings the lines of bewildered anguish, the chorus voices (all of them Janaki!) respond in reassuring empathy…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SX3m9XC7ZWA
* * * * * *
In the 1984 movie Vaidehi Kaathirunthaal, Revathy played the title role of a widowed danseuse with rare empathy. Being a trained dancer herself, she brought to heartrending life the anguish of Vaidehi..
Ilaiyaraja was the natural choice for composing the music. Those were the years when any film producer worth his salt would first book Ilaiyaraja and then search for a director (any director) with a story (any story).. It was sufficient if the film's titles had Ilaiyaraja’s name… the producer/financier would laugh all the way to the bank….
Ilaiyaraja would listen to the story, suggest appropriate situations for songs, compose the tunes, get his usual lyricists pen the lines, send for SPB and S. Janaki, and it was all in a day’s work!
Who knows what went on in the mind of the Maestro, for Vaidehi Kathirunthaal, he decided to do away with his favourite singing pair…. he roped in the talented Jayachandran to sing for the male characters, Ilaiyaraja himself sang a chorus song, P. Susheela, Vani Jairam & Uma Raman sang for the female characters… each song was a jewel, crafted with care and polished to perfection…and became hugely popular in their time.
There was one song remaining. For a sequence depicting Vaidehi’s inner turmoil, mental agony and physical longings, lyricist Vaali wrote lovely evocative lines…
Azhagu Malar Aada Abhinayangal Kooda
Silamboliyum Pulambuvathai Kael
Lines filled with poetic flourishes depicting a forlorn, fragile life, bereft of any hope... she bemoans her loneliness and curses her youth, for the untold longings that torture her... her life is a night that has no dawn...
Ilaiyaraja read the lines, sang them softly to himself, shook his head with a bemused smile, resigned himself to the inevitable and told his assistants, 'Go, call her!' … After all, he knew that none other than his prima donna could do even a semblance of justice to the poignant lines or the challenging tune…he could not visualize any one else singing this song... Our lady came with a twinkling smile, read the lines, listened to the tune, heard out the orchestration and…. this miracle was delivered in a single take… Janaki was Vaidehi and Vaidehi was Janaki... Ilaiyaraja forgot his peeve when his pet performed, and joined the rest of his troupe wholeheartedly when the singer was given a rousing applause when it was all over… All was well that ended well..
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DugnsdbFZ7w
* * * * * *
Here is ‘Raghuvara nannu’ the Pantuvarali Kruti of Tyagaraja, set to music by Ilaiyaraja for the 1986 Tamil movie Isai Paadum Thendral. The movie itself was a remake of Bhadran’s 1982 Malayalam movie Ente Mohangal Poovaninju. The same Kruti found place in the Malayalam original as well, sung by the same singers, set to music by the revered V. Dakshinamurthy.
The two male singers- Dr. M. Balamuralikrishna and K. J. Yesudas have had years of formal training in classical music under great masters and have earned world-wide acclaim in the concert circle. Hence it is no surprise that they handle the swift, intricate passages with nonchalant ease. What is of surprise, and a breathtaking one at that, is the stupendous performance of S. Janaki. With negligible training in classical music, how on earth does this blessed singer match the two redoubtable stalwarts, note to note, nuance to nuance?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PQaH2scgqNA
* * * * * *
Yet another of the many Janaki-Ilaiyaraja collaborations that never got their due... a song where the remarkable songstress tries a few lines of German, with marked assurance, as always...
ich liebe dich ( German)- Pudhu Pattu (1990)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oHyy3u4VllM
* * * * * *
Avatharam (1995) was one of the most popular albums of Ilaiyaraja after the advent of A.R. Rahman. The maestro bequeathed the movie with a BGM that elevated the frames to soul-searching, scintillating heights; and as for the songs, each one was an essay in enchantment.
Here a duet that finds place in the earlier, happier part of the proceedings. The vision-impaired Ponnamma and Kuppuswami find themselves falling in love... The song ushers in their new-found joys…. He explains the colours that this world is made of, and sums it up telling that in the end the real colours are not those one sees, but what one feels from the heart…. Vaali’s simple lines evoke vistas of vibrant hues…and Ilaiyaraja crafts a tune that captures this wonderment, of a window that had been shut for ages being thrown open with a suddenness that startles and spellbinds…
It was the time when Janaki had started to move away from the limelight. She had even remarked in an interview that there were many talented young singers who deserved more opportunities and admitted with endearing honesty that her voice had aged…. Yet she couldn’t refuse when the maestro summoned her for some of his compositions that he knew only she could do justice to. Like in this case, only his Januma could bring in the innocence and the vulnerability, the reticence and the exhilaration that the sequence demanded….
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TpEJnnPYe-w
* * * * * *
So much so, for Janaki the supreme artiste….
Yet another Janaki vies for a special place in my heart, and she is Janaki the human being….
*** Veteran singer Jikki was walking along GN Chetty Road with her daughter, in search of an auto to take her to the hospital…A car passed them by and then reversed…A distressed Janaki came running out and helped Jikki and her daughter into her car…’Never again will you step out like this, Akka!’ Janaki admonished her venerable senior with tears in her eyes. ‘You will call me every time you need to go to the doctor!’. And this was when Janaki was still a busy singer in the early 90s and Jikki was all but forgotten…
*** Every time she is complimented for the scintillating ‘Singara velane deva’, Janaki expresses her unreserved gratitude to veteran P. Leela. For when the makers of ‘Konjum Salangai’ had all but given up the idea of the song after hunting in vain for a singer who could match the pitch of the Nadaswaram, it was P.Leela who suggested the name of Janaki. In this age of blasé thanklessness and convenient memory loss, to find such a transparent heart is rare….
*** “Can you ever find a voice sweeter than hers?’’ exclaimed Janaki when asked about her contemporary P. Susheela. Such large-heartedness, complete lack of rancor or envy is another heartwarming attribute that sparkles on Janaki’s persona.
*** As for the two female singers who were part of the Shankarabharanam album, both Janaki and Vani Jairam had given their very best for the album. Vani’s classical training helped her bring out delightful nuances in each note. Janaki, bereft of any formal training, relied as always on her innate intuitive skills and embellished her songs with the artistry that only she was capable of. And both were equal contenders for the coveted National Award.
In the course of a leisurely conversation I had with Vani ji some years back, I asked her about the National Award for the Best Female Playback Singer that she won for Shankarabharanam. Vani ji said that both she and Janaki had vied with each other in giving their best for the album. She said she was in a recording when a messenger came to her telling her that she was wanted on the telephone. “It was Janakima on the line. ‘Vani, I am so happy… you have won the National Award for Shankarabharanam!’ she said excitedly. That’s Janakima…. she is goodness itself!”
*** Much before he even dreamed of a career in playback singing, when he was still a student, SPB took part in a singing competition. Janaki, who was one of the judges, gave him the highest scores. And when the verdict of the other judges didn't match hers, she was forthright in stating her dissent. Not content with that, the clairvoyant chanteuse prophesized that he would become a singer of repute one day, and urged him to try his hand in playback singing. It was thus Janaki who sowed in the mind of the youngster the seed of an ambition that would one day take him to dizzying heights of fame and fortune. "My mentor, my teacher, my guide" claims SPB of Janaki.
*** When Chithra was offered songs such as ‘Othayil ninnathenna’ (Vanaja Girija) and ‘Maarugo Maarugo’ (Sathi Leelavathi), she demurred initially, not sure if she could bring in the effect required. It was Janaki who gave her useful tips, motivated her and instilled in her the confidence to experiment with her voice. Chithra turns emotional when speaking of S. Janaki. “Janakiamma means a lot to me. I am very close to her. She is a living legend and I have learned a lot from her.” In another interview, Chithra recalled how in her initial years, Ilaiyaraja urged her to listen to Janaki’s songs to understand better the fine art of playback singing.
*** Singers such as Vasantha, the late Swarnalatha, Sujatha and Minmini have spoken warmly of Janaki’s counsel and encouragement. Vasantha has recalled in many an interview that Janaki used to visit her house in the 60s, just to motivate her and urge her not to give up even when the going was tough…
*** When speaking of Janaki, composer Shyam was effusive in his words of praise. He recalled that even when Janaki was singing round the clock for Ilaiyaraja in the early 80s, she would squeeze in time even in the wee hours of the morning if summoned by Shyam. And if she found that it was a low budget project of some humble producer, she would not insist on her usual rate and accept a mere pittance as a token payment without any hesitation.
*** In a magnificent felicitation by Tamil film music artistes for AR Rahman on winning the Oscar, it was Janaki who recalled the role played by the forgotten R.K. Shekhar (ARR’s father). Her heartfelt tributes had ARR in tears….
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jlyH2GQYz_8
Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from Heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art….
- P.B. Shelley (To A Skylark)
Discussion at:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1018417744856618/permalink/1969476883084028/
