1
By the Shield of Heracles and
the four realms of lesser Asia-lands and
as for the unseen rocks this it fell not unto me to say
But swear, Traveller,
On the turves from the horses’ hoofs
In the great battle that is to come
In danger, I am, and in the courage that welcomes danger.
That all the poison ran about
And many little deaths are to be written
dismayed with aghast and the dread,
in the legend for the unseen rocks,
describing stop by stop
2
Each numerous passages take on cargoes
of magic as an ear of wheat from this island
and there are numerous sugar legends as well
. Traveller, from hence may you unbind, give your detail
Are you of the Boetian heroines who gave birth to demi-gods or heroes.
Or a mortal passenger?
First Priam came, lest the din of to meet this madman’s rage;
They’re loud and long
Where serpents neverending sleep
Clothe me naked, devotee with naked feet
Undress me here and named I will spring up – Quick.
Alas, you came down to me through curtains
Such a lit onward in such a way as not
Abrupt a lion in his den for you are more skilled in your hides than Paris,
as ghost, tricky and I, tricked out, greatly daring…
And thus I see you, may I see you
As whatever lurks beneath your hood and long hair.. ah!
The goddess, bide not, I rarely have seen
A fervid woman, for you, are a woman,
Traveller’s image of vesper lips through midmost azure..
eyes.
Tell me more about my dress, woman
Deftly now and girdle your loins,
just look at my cheek that felt a tear, a kiss,
To Lesbos, for through the poisoned wine will be
no the maid off mine
Will hail your beauty more worthy than my prize.
We must hide you for Paris is looking always
Looking always to awake a vision of love and beauty
bearing their way
Traveller, The straining doves fly fly to the nostril
where under the scented fume of tortured fame
Whisper at the future in the passions past. Yet
in my despairing and in my boredom..
Purge through all my corporal pores
And stuck adherent in sword and tye
Supply my every want.
3
And the Traveller answered her:
Is it too much to ask that, Helena?
To supply each cringy whore
To groop with grace every needy harlot
To owe my being to this blessed night
One claps my wings for eternal travel
I fire my muses to harder joys
For deeds and arms prepare, for Troy
I taught for a hero and made a boost of
my travels that grow supreme
For through your boredom queen life’s tides renewing bring
The bucolic
wreathless
the vigor of heart bewitches
the Prince
the Troy
the man
the woman
a clearer picture of the untrodden shore
I seek everything but passion
mood all they lie and appease you
but the Traveller obeyed more apt command
From sable on to roaring roar
This passion is searing me!
From out of the dainty heather in the country places
like master sailing with oar and boat
Only brood and willows
Fire and the windows
The true word of welcome in Ur Nammu’s ziggurat
Lone let it stand, the true word
of the first pirate of Tortuga
of the Spanish fleet,
feared not storm this grand ship
in the magic chariot through
The clouds
To reap advantage
As good bosoms are found aboard were set ashore,
and the vessel to the spirits and to the gods I made!
Yes.. – I, rode the caravan roads
and wide Arabian deserts
from the mighty Sheba[1]t
to the magnificent Gaza which they ruled.
I drank ginger ale with the Queen of Sheba,
bringing her spices and herbs from Cana
and many a treasure by sea, from India….
(Traveller continues to ramble..)
4 Helen
Traveller,
talents into jewels brimming with Sheba’s gemstones
Drink your fill, join me
In this aweful council
Of bright pure water from life’s poisonous chalice
there won’t be any war under that sky
Hear me at once, for I am a messenger from lust
And that ‘s enough, for lust is vanity, I, Helena,
Selfish in her beginning as her end
Seal delicious saffron lips yet
their covetousness and the extremity they were blazing
my temper to made me venture with ghostlike ladies like you!
Whose tempter’s tongue never knew nor rust tarnish
Burn Troy cry in anguish
smooth floored maddening spirit
Will not escape as captives
With kingly scourge to lust that stings
Tomorrow, musick the fair of wars
Inherit your sick palaces
And thus in virtue I, sea sundered harlot
Bathe the bare naked along with ministers of tears
Long must elapse by the plunging night
Beautiful beautiful Paris in his manly might
Gaze at last I yield to be caressed, come Death…
Such good wives throw their good spouses
Sages and arts and the next rattling dice
But I? – never. Her dress stains with a sterams of blood…Her dagger…
5
I told this tale of Gudea’s powerful teaching
to Chaldean descendants
in the city of Gerrha,
where I did trade,
to which the Gerrhan folk ridiculed me.
The moment they were about to stone me out of the city,
I turned and raised my arms, telling them this.
– Descendants of Chaldeans,
the masons of Babylon,
you who have torn down the temple of Solomon:
in two hundred years you will be wiped from the face
of the earth in pools of blood. – with cries,
by the curse of Helena
for not paid his mental worship first
for not paid fort the remnants of Troy
I brought to you as a gift
Thus dishonoured and dismissed the lady seer
Helena, a slaughtered bird on even feet
Arose to the greater glory
Her lips with water first bedewed I did not
For I was a Traveller, not a man or a woman
The sacrifice decreed in greater good sacrifice ordain
Now Helen is a Traveller, too!
how small this name to you to what you now know
she picked up her cards and counters
she never saw the city of whose fate I sang
if such a city ever existed
Calm and enthusiastic; tired, but not depressed
an Obelisk its Shade arise
and depths of despair remain
—restless at the night.
In breeches freely lies
how can I get a night’s rest, you ministers of disturbed mind!
She killed herself and thus she saved Troy
And prince Paris had started afresh!!
On jarring matches turn
On her needful twirls
To conquer the Traveller’s dapper waist to ranting Dame
In danger, she was, and in the courage that welcomes danger.
As I said this, I vanished and hence missed seeing their astounded faces. I convinced myself of my own prophecy when I returned to the massacred city, sometime around ninth century
To this, the ghost of Traveller went ablaze with bright light. He howled and announced victoriously – I ground Babylon to dust!
[1]The capital of the ancient kingdomHadhramaut, Hadhramout, Hadramawt or Ḥaḍramūt (probably “Death has come” or “court of Death”)in Genesis 10:26 and 1 Chronicles 1:20 in the Bible. Hadramaut was where exotic goods trade took place.
Bastards,
