Of The City Beautiful, She the long-betrothed
to One All-Loved Man –
I cannot speak in measure.
Her peace is all my pleasure.
Lumed in the final solar span
I saw her last, in countless tiny jewels clothed.
They were the waterdrops she lies amid,
for here, within an earthcloud, that man hid
her, The Beautiful, his treasure.
I think, and shudder, once a day
(since the loved man came and went)
of dragons, and that six-legged Serpent
who swore ago to shred her roasted flesh.
How her spires tremble, her high-hoven halls hush;
a song outsighs, “Oh Come, You All-Loved Man, and Stay…”
Shelter here, You Milky Lustrous Gem:
I am your Beloved’s land, O Lovely, I am true.
My clods are damp and ugly tubers sprout from them,
but every morning I aspire for you:
I breathe aloft a sheltering aerojewel cloud.
If he is yours, you are my reason to be proud.
For your sake, long ago, I was not left to burn.
Untroubled sleep: the All-Loved Man,
having full unscrolled an Ancient Plan,
will soon return.