Page 29 - Contrast1965Spring

SONG OF THE SULTAN'S BELOVED

Sinuous music stealing through my veins

go,

flow
like serpent gliding,
still stream sliding ..

slipping.

Raise your slim pale arms to heaven,

water melting .. . .. I am the erie oboes wailing.

Go,
go! Bare heels stomping to the rhythm of the drum,

thin skirts whirling ...
long slim legs to tease a raja,

dark hair flying,
lifted bosom, pale breasts hidden
by the golden gleam and the laugh of gems.

There he sits with smile sardonic, clasp his knees.

Sultan of Sultans

watching me.
I am his favorite,
I _ the dancer with dark locks tossing.
When he sighs, my knees shall bend and I shall

Many a sultan is old and paunchy ..

he is neither old nor young
and he found me - just so dancing,

laughing,
dancing,
bending,
swaytng,

a song of flesh in the temple of the sun.

Now I dance alone for him
and the pool behind me ripples
golden glitter in the moon.

Dancer bending to the music,
woman bending to a man,
beloved melting to a lover
I, the dancer melt to him.

When the closing dark come thickest, .

pipers pass the high bronze gates leaving only wi nd to Sigh;

drums cease and the only beating
is the throbbing of our blood.
When the new moon pales with morning
dawn will find an empty garden -
sa ve for me clasped in his arms.

S.M.

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