She dances;
Sultry, proud, hypnotic, dangerous,
Veil and scarf and ankle bells
And heartbeat finger cymbals
Weave an ancient spell that once
Made gods choke on ambrosia and blush.
Soft-breath'd, disbelieving watchers
Now unsafe in numbers,
The pure corrupted and the
Confident corrupt impotent.
She knows with dare-filled eyes,
And sweet and personal mocking smile
That here she tears up will and word,
And scatters the pieces
From her fingertips as she moves..
She has all passion and ice,
And rime and fire,
Zephyrs, storms and hope and scorn.
And knives.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your best one to date yet Kev....this is a winner and I am taking it to my favourites. I love the form, the metre and the passion of the piece. It is gripping from the beginning to the end. More like this one please. lots of good wishes from Fay.