I Have Come to the Strange Ball (Verse XXII) Poem by Jose Marti
I Have Come to the Strange Ball (Verse XXII)
I have come to the strange ball
Where tails and gaiters abound,
And the best hunters the year-round
The New Year wait to install.
A violet duchess careens
In the arms of a red coat:
A painted viscount of note
Keeps time on a tambourine.
And the red waistcoats whirl by,
And the flaming tulles are flowing,
As dead leaves the wind is blowing
In front of a blind man's eye.
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4/26/2024 3:23:38 AM # 1.0.0.1119
