the Zircon glistens, Melaleuca’s shade thickets pall <br />her comfort creeps where moon and sun fall <br />slowly she dreamt the merry waters gush <br />weary wandered from the Western stars flush <br /> <br />through shadowy Visby to The Lapponian Area <br />clamor of rooks from Sense and Idea <br />a figure as shapeless as an ancient urn <br />had wrap to match her hue, the Luck would turn <br /> <br />on desolate Bien Hoa or dreariness of Mumbai <br />it must be too risky to her to swim and to fly <br />since Life is black with mistakes, and solemn with tears <br />oh devour these nightmares with audacities! <br /> <br />Sandro Botticelli’s turret was with ploughshare crossed <br />and here the maize her silken Love tossed <br />look cool, firm pulses of her temperate tide <br />from north to south the harvest is her fate<br /><br />Ahmad Shiddiqi<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ballad-9/
