Poem: Excerpt 4
Beggars sat huddled In harried rows; Their bowls were made From burnished gourds; The Market was full Of people And every provision, Fruits were in abundance, Fowls quite plentiful, The grain-store was good; Yet, I heard the howling of dogs, Wretched skeletons Groveling in the gutters, Beside themselves with misery, Shouting their starvation to the world, Unfulfilled creatures, Unhappy with their lot, Fast-fading into oblivion, Their gullets choked with the gall Of a violent hatred; Meanwhile, t he dance had begun When I bestirred myself To participate; Their voices rose in lavender tints Evaporating in the mists, Roses fell in profusion And the cobbled by-ways Clattered under my feet, Clouds of roses Clusters of lavender, The fragrant echoes of a music, heard And easily remembered, Staining the garment of undress, with The hues of a glory long-forgotten, Alive somewhere Within the ca...