Classic Poem

As our reward in this place we do not want those villages
where sambur deer sleep with their fawns on the densely strewn husks
of a green cereal with long, handsome nuts curved like the massive
horns of buffalo who show their easy saunter and their longing
for expanses of water. As we praise and refuse, drinking the sweetly
aged liquor strained through fiber and afloat with flowers, it is proper
for us to receive farming villages along the rivers where waterfowl
lay their eggs near the fords, it is right for us who stand in battle
as the long spears with their sharp tips pierce
our chests so that we seem like palmyra trees all filled with jagged stems!