Through the gates of Heaven
in an encirclement
walkin' past the lithe of waters
flowin' from statues
of the beauteous & beastly oness
with mirrors on them.
There I found myself gaing
into the palace beyond
Rooms filled with treasuries
sacrificials of love
Then behind the amber Curtains
Inanna, Queen of Samarkand.
.......
Lady, may I know thy name?
and she answered, with a voice more soft and tender,
than the leaves on a lilly in May:
Ah, sweet love,
I am the body of the triad, and the temple of worship.
I am passion, and I am will. Did thee come in vain?
I am the sound of a heartbeat and of clasping flesh!
Hear my scream:
To me! Always unto me! I belong to thee!
For I am, but a whisper in delight, a secret name,
to thee, my love, that is all I give for the night!
and when the dawn awakes,
in colours of fiery golden and red
Keep thy name, ah! in this there is no shame!
And I do nought - Farewell! O Lover - but depart!
.......
I did not forget for many years
only then to return
to see her over and over, again
never spoke of it -
But love, love, I remember you
even if we never met.
Such are the Samarkands
wayward flowers
which you adore in secret
but never speak off
but you do not forget the passing
of moments with them. |