SEVEN POET
Xanadu in Bamiyan
A
lady laced in lazuli
In
a vision once I saw:
It
was a Scythian maid
And
on her lute she played,
Singing
as I sat in awe.
Strum
did she so carelessly
And
furrow her crescent brow.
Could
I revive within me
Her
braid lank and visage wan?
To
such a deep delight 'twould win me
The
crinkle of her crown,
That
I would hang a disc in her hair --
That
golden dome! those eyes of ice!
And
all who heard should see it there
And
all should cry, Beware! Beware!
Her
flashing eyes, her floating hair!
Weave
a circle round me thrice
And
close my eyes with holy dread.
Admit,
she sings, admit you're scared.
For
she on nectar-dew hath fed
And
savored the Soma of Paradise.
Now
stones fall flat, spell is broken,
Scattered
like frost, teal blue tokens:
Talismans,
amulets, airy moons,
Woven,
arranged in gilded plait.
Still
stand I, somehow I've spoken,
Mere
token that I'll not be afraid.
And still lilts she her reverie,
A
warrior of wounded knees
And
bitter burnt offerings.
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