Too soon you wearied of our tears. <br />And then you danced with spangled feet, <br />Leading Belshazzar's chattering court <br />A-tinkling through the shadowy street. <br />With mead they came, with chants of shame. <br />DESIRE'S red flag before them flew. <br />And Istar's music moved your mouth <br />And Baal's deep shames rewoke in you. <br /> <br />Now you could drive the royal car; <br />Forget our Nation's breaking load: <br />Now you could sleep on silver beds.— <br />(Bitter and dark was our abode.) <br />And so, for many a night you laughed, <br />And knew not of my hopeless prayer, <br />Till God's own spirit whipped you forth <br />From Istar's shrine, from Istar's stair. <br /> <br />Darling daughter of Babylon— <br />Rose by the black Euphrates flood— <br />Again your beauty grew more dear <br />Than my slave's bread, than my heart's blood. <br />We sang of Zion, good to know, <br />Where righteousness and peace abide. . . . <br />What of your second sacrilege <br />Carousing at Belshazzar's side? <br /> <br />Once, by a stream, we clasped tired hands— <br />Your paint and henna washed away. <br />Your place, you said, was with the slaves <br />Who sewed the thick cloth, night and day. <br />You were a pale and holy maid <br />Toil-bound with us. One night you said:— <br />"Your God shall be my God until <br />I slumber with the patriarch dead." <br /> <br />Pardon, daughter of Babylon, <br />If, on this night remembering <br />Our lover walks under the walls <br />Of hanging gardens in the spring, <br />A venom comes from broken hope, <br />From memories of your comrade-song <br />Until I curse your painted eyes <br />And do your flower-mouth too much wrong.<br /><br />Vachel Lindsay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/darling-daughter-of-babylon/
