I. EAST-SIDE SPICE SHOP Scarlet spice Grows dusty within wall and wall; And cinnamon grows drab Beyond recall -- And so, the tart green leaves of marjoram; Here is no yellow spikenard Of one Whose navel glittered ivory and sard For Solomon . . . Only a tired gray Jew, who stands Against the huddled blackness of his door, And sees some old forgotten tombstones write A cabbalistic script of white, And then is done . . . and moves into the night . . . Dark is the city, and dark his hands, And quiet with the bitter death Of trampled perfume . . . II. LET STRANGE POWDERS OUT OF TARSHISH . . . Let strange powders out of Tarshish lace Your arms with silver, and with gold your thighs; Midnight will pass, and with the day Our lips will be remembered by this spume and spray . . . Close to the sea-wall, close to the sea-water's ebony and sapphire, On the white armory of your neck, My mouth shall hang curved shields of fire! . . . @3Black are the spears of streets against our eyes -- Oh, turn apart and swiftly face Joppa and Tyre and Samothrace!@1 III. WALKERS ON THE BRIDGE The city winds phylacteries of stone; The slow, strange metal plectron of the moon Upon the black-strung towers speaks with white And amethyst . . . How soon The river comes to them! . . . Dark and alone, Deep and with an alabaster mist Of some old starlight! . . . Now he stands, The small round sorrows of her breasts Quiet beneath his hands . . . And now within the brooding of her eyes The hoof-beats of the dawn loom sharp with terror -- @3Tightly, he clutches empty skies!@1 . . . IV. TWILIGHT: A MAN PLAYS A HARP . . . Twilight: a man plays a harp in the Ghetto -- Who will remember? @3Twilight is a dark shield on the earth, And the rain is a beating of silver lances; Scarlet should dress your shoulders, and jasper be cool on your bosoms . . . Sisters, sisters, you sit by the walls of the houses; You brood with your hands on your faces, with your eyes in the wet wind@1 . . . It is a madness to strum a harp on a curbstone -- Who will remember? @3Twilight is a pool with a sunken star; A young pool with saffron, purple, and a small gray mist. Come, bathe your bodies: how pleasant is yellow silence! how calm to your limbs! Sisters, sisters, you sit by the walls of the houses; What binds your thighs? what is sharp in your eyes in the wet wind?@1 . . . It was true: he must lay his harp down; He must pluck at the clouds with his fingers flung North and South -- Who will remember? V. WATERS OF BABYLON In a round lake, where the waves are deep and quiet, He saw the far small moon . . . O single white Breast of the withdrawn night! @3And so was troubled by the waters of the earth@1 . . . The rain was the green hair of women nude and moist against his face; Rivers were jade fingers and silver hands stirring the body of his eyes; He counted three masts on a red-wood ship, and one was of citron, one of lime, one of cedar . . . @3And so was troubled by the waters of the earth@1 . . . Where did he see these things? At midnight, While his street was gathering its shadows; While strange and bitter Babylons Mocked beneath his window . . . VI. HOLY DAY Even though the dusk is dark with the color of prayers and lamentations, New lovers stab it with sharp tincture of delight; Even though the pavements are silent with atonement, Young feet glitter on the stones far into the night . . . For the shuffling of old men's shoes is a lost sound in the high walls, And the blast of the ram's horn is not heard in the white towers; The purple hands of the clouds are mingled with the city's hair -- Hark! the new lovers are gone walking deep into the hours . . . Until the gray windows stand against the sunrise, Swift songs are drumming on the echoes of @3Kol Nidre@1 . . . | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GLAMOUR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TUNK (A LECTURE ON MODERN EDUCATION) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON WITH CHAOS IN EACH KISS by TIMOTHY LIU RICHARD BOOTH TO HIS SON JUNIUS BRUTUS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: EUGENIA TODD by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |