Classic Poem

In the end darkness drowned Zenobia
while the horsemen shouted for joy,
the oceans roared in a way
that had nothing to do with the pain
you etched in my heart, Zenobia.

I shall continue to disappear into history
careful the invading horses do not tread upon me
Perhaps then I can reach you
I, the primitive woman, and you the dust.

Homeland falling to pieces, scatter like leaves,
I am your frail moon, the bridge built
from your children's bones … cross over,
catch up with the Romans as they nip at Zenobia's heels.

Homeless, lost, Zenobia wanders, limbs turned to stone;
outside, winds blow, horsemen destroy our homes.
She lies cold with fear while her heart's flame warms the invaders.
In silence I built you a fortress palace
above the rocks, Zenobia; Palmyra your kingdom of
velvet moss, a capital that was
a butterfly of frost: by night

the water carriers' torches reflected
off your fabled palace until
it was mantled with stars.
That wounding winter, your windy season,
hurled the lost and defeated like strangers
into the desert. That season of winds
is no longer yours, you who once perched
like a dove on top of all your victories.
Even the poor and rejected broke their promise
and betrayed you. Later, oppression
made them cry and they are remembered
in the ledgers of failed storms. Waiting
for their glittering dream to come true,
they aged and vanished like a handful of dust.

For you the dream ended
on the streets of Rome,
where they carried you in triumph, a lamb slaughtered in front of
the shamble house of justice.
In Rome's bitterblue sky
what did you see, your heart
swollen with rebel reverie,
as they slipped the grey cord
around your neck?

Whoever ascends the palace becomes king!
Behind him history and time fall away
Where can you find song now
that time weighs you down so?
Hello vagabond time!
Hello stars:
Up there in your lofty heights
what did you do?
I watch on history's shores
to return to Zenobia perhaps
but an army of mistresses, whores
and courtesans charges,
with them the butchers come.
I shut my door in fright.
Zenobia! The desert has turned its poisonous back on you;
the problem was easily disposed of.
My tears are full of dust,
there isn't one clear glance
of love: Zenobia, the world
is lit with the fire of dogs!