Very impressed by this, Jon. And, dare I say it, very Jon it is too! With
English as my 3rd language, even I, too, did get the Yeats, the Cavafy and
the Anacreon. So what? It's a very fine poem, none the less.
Best
Árni
--
Árni Ibsen
Stekkjarkinn 19,
220 Hafnarfjördur,
Iceland
tel.: +354-555-3991
e-mail: [log in to unmask]
http://www.centrum.is/~aibsen/
on 4/27/03 3:27 PM, Jon Corelis at [log in to unmask] wrote:
> Prayer
>
>
> Lord, set me a table in Byzantium:
> not the rose-colored queen of the Bosphorus,
> not the city of jewelled liturgies,
> but the drain where the scourings of empire collect.
>
> Give me a rough wooden bench
> and a goblet of thick southern wine
> that smacks of honey and dust
> in a tavern on some twisted lane away from the sea,
>
> where a plump dancing girl of uncertain antecedents
> clicks the reptilian scales of her castanets,
> her gaze weighing my limbs like dubious florins,
> while a one-eyed Cappadocian in the corner
> thoughtfully fingers his knife.
>
> Lord, I don't ask for much,
> only a fate I can handle.
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