Poem: Shandur Polo, 1990

 

Had I seen the ghosts of this place

they would dance their victory dance;

Glorious vale

Cup, chalice, basin;

the glacial streams empty into that lake

quiet, ever so silent,

rippling lyre, reflection;

Snows and rocks frame it;

I have no words,

only emotions

which boil and rise

with the thunder of horses

the sound of stick and ball thudding

across the turf;

The ghosts of this place, had I but seen them,

pale as the snow

cold as the lake

vivid as the night fires

that light the valley-

the whistle of wind

the throb of drum

the chant of song-

had I seen the ghosts

dance their victory dance... 
















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from A Sad Piper 1994 

 

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