7.22.2010

THE KASÎDAH V, 37, 48

Yon glorious Sun, the greater light,
 the “Bridegroom” of the royal Lyre,
A flaming, boiling, bursting mine;
 a grim black orb of whirling fire:

That gentle Moon, the lesser light,
 the Lover’s lamp, the Swain’s delight,
A ruined world, a globe burnt out,
 a corpse upon the road of night.

What reckt he, say, of Good or Ill
 who in the hill-hole made his lair,
The blood-fed rav’ening Beast of prey,
 wilder than wildest wolf or bear?

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