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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