He who gave them, knows who has the true ring.”
For a while the Sultan meditated,
Stroked his beard and nodded his approval:
“On your way! Return in peace now brother!
Unmolested bear your father’s jewel . . . .”
A SUN FLOWER
Over each garden wall and leafy hedge
That winds around the huts of railroad guards,
Up toward the sky, you raise your golden head
To the Sun’s golden cheeks, o floweret.
How fared it then in Hellas long ago,
When on Olympus lived the ancient Gods
And when, at times, they came to mortal men?
Twos once upon a time, there lived a King
Who had two daughters, fairest of the fair
And one of these, the gold-haired Clythia,
Was loved and loved the young God Hellius,
The god who guides the sun’s bright chariot.
But Love is as inconstant as a stream
With men at least; and as a further proof
Behold the lot of gold-haired Clythia
To show that godly lovers are like men.
A fair Olympian treads over earthly fields
To pass and stoop above a floweret,
To pluck and smell and cast away the bloom
And quickly looks around for other gems . . .
Clythia’s sister, Helius beheld,
The blackhaired, pale and fair Leucothea.
’Twas your misfortune, hapless Clythia,
That he behetd her . . . Clythia farewell.
His love’s bright rays that were once dear to you
Were now to you a torture, for you knew
That now they warm your sister’s soft white cheeks
And then came dreams ... and then came memories . . .
Through these you drank of torment’s bitter draught;
And when you passed the places that you knew
It felt as if your bare feet slowly trod
Across a stubble field where once sweet roses grew.
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