Through handkerchief-hung nights of emerald rain <br />And murmur of the shiny majestic tavern <br />Thou art that shark! of what below thee lies <br />Far in the unblocked shimmering skies <br /> <br />Glows in swart splendour from the reddish face <br />Where velvet, bloomy grapes, for very senses <br />Sensuous scents of musk and myrtle hover sigh <br />The frail pomegranate-harvest, flying high <br /> <br />Glad from Istambul grown mature and weary <br />Half-soldiers, their brave melodies and dreary <br />Naught broken cover this spirit, split but breath <br />And the worst dream and hope is the coming death <br /> <br />Their jasmines, the sweetness of fragile minds <br />And each silence journey a drawing-down of blinds <br />Our gold in hole of sorrow, our wills in storm <br />Touch at Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz which deny thy harm<br /><br />Ahmad Shiddiqi<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ode-1/
