Hi Sue  and Margaret, The supposed scenario for this is a clay tablet found
on an ancient tomb in Ninevah being translated in a British museum in
winter.I do not wish to put all that into the piece and only hint at it by
placing the translation in inverted commas and the first two lines o f the
last strophe where the tablet is recovered by its protecting cloth. Ishtar
is the ancient Babylonian goddess of fertility to whom the prayer asking for
rebirth is addressed.
The poem is a fantasy, there being, to my knowledge, no such tablet. The
snowdrops are in the grounds of the museum.
Anyway that's my story and I am sticking to it. Have a good Christmas my
friends. Love Arthur.
----- Original Message -----
From: "grasshopper" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2003 6:32 PM
Subject: Re: New sub: untitled


> Dear Arthur,
>            Are you sure there are snowdrops in that part of the world?
> Snowdrops in a desert region seem out of place to me. Didn't they
originate
> in cold mountainous regions?
> Kind regards,
>       grasshopper
>
>
> ----- Original Message -----
> From: "Arthur Seeley" <[log in to unmask]>
> To: <[log in to unmask]>
> Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2003 1:33 PM
> Subject: [THE-WORKS] New sub: untitled
>
>
> > "Beloved mother-goddess, hear me.
> > My blind eyes ache
> > to see again the rose unfold
> > the swallows carve summer
> > out of the golden air of the fields,
> > light dance across the Mother of all rivers,
> > the lion shake his ragged mane."
> >
> > "Hear me, Ishtar, morning and evening star,
> > my stopped ears yearn
> > for the song of frogs before rain,
> > the stir of crickets in the grass,
> > the sneeze of cymbals at the temple gate,
> > the ululations of mourners and the bells of birth,
> > ought but this swarming silence
> > and the stones heavy upon me."
> >
> > "Call me into the vale again,
> > assail me with life and sorrow,
> > bring me to pain and breath,
> > the inseparables.
> > Gift me the perfumes of the garden,
> > the kiss of silk and sand,
> > the sweetness of pomegranates
> > and the fires of wine
> > and I will sing you hymns
> > to tumble stars and soothe the rage of winds."
> >
> > He drew the cloth over the map of ancient words,
> > a tablet rippled with wedges of cuneiform.
> > Deep in the locked earth
> > a snowdrop twitched.
> >