Velum, velum little thing.
How I wonder where you swing.
Up above the tongue so high,
Like a larynx in the sky.
When the constriction is gone,
When air nothing blocks upon,
Then you show your little sigh,
Velum, velum, you are nigh.
Then the sounds in the pharyngeal arc,
Thank you for your little spark,
They could not know which way to go,
If you didn’t lower so.
In the pharyngeal cavity you keep,
And often through to the oral peep,
For you never shut for long,
’Til /m, n, ŋ/ are sung.
As your subtle, nasal sound,
Resonates so loudly all around,
Though I know just what you are,
Velum, velum, you’re a star.
Velum, velum, little thing.
How I wonder when you swing.
Up above the tongue so high,
Like a larynx in the sky.
Velum, velum, little thing,
How I wonder where you’ll swing.
How I wonder when you’ll sing.
