NINEVAH
Item. A dozen beads. Adamic. Time
Lies thick about them . See,
These marks were made by water. The string
That held them all together is gone.
Quite so. Another lot.
Myself. A poor curator. Tourist girls
Shriek at me from their buses. Yet I keep
A small collection, flutes, embroidery –that flute,
forgive me, is not for sale.
Travellers,
Dealers in bronze, be quick!
Antiquity is leaving us. Observe. The city itself
Drifts through our fingers. Brickdust. Should I list
A skyful of scratches borne on the wind ex libris,
Necklaces
Visible only in certain lights, smeragdi,
Emeralds? From level six
A fine contagion of shadows.
1 Comments:
THis poem was under construction for the last few years. Charles was with me in Bangkok and we made a trip to the Northeast, Ubon and along the mekhong. Allthe time he was refining the lines on the road, in the tuktuks and by the Moon River. We later went on to India Varanasi and Darjeeling. Still the poem was undergoing subtle changes. I will never forget how in this way he tranfered some small part of his poetic mastery.
Oool Fjolkunnigr
Post a Comment
<< Home