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