Classic Poem

I, Shumma, radiant with all woman's graces
And bloom of summers, had the rooted wish
To be beloved of Saul, the son of Kish,
The Benjamite and lord of many places,

Saul, our first holy King, by God appointed
To rule the legions of the Israelites,
To give them statutes and command their fights,
Saul, who by pious Samuel was anointed.

And on my couch, adorned in shesh and scarlet,
I dreamed of him in exquisite unrest;
While love had dove-like nestled in my breast,
And purified the soul of me, a harlot.

For I had seen him in imperious manner
Marshal his armored followers, and go
To scourge the insolence of the nation's foe,
And o'er Philistine dead wave Israel's banner.

Erect, a tower of strength, in vigor peerless,
Taller than all the people by his side,
I saw him through his populous cities ride
In virile splendor, arrogant and fearless.

And love invaded all my rosy beauty,
While trembling, and enraptured, and enslaved,
Mute at his royal feet I humbly craved
One look of love as largess and as booty.

Before him, pathed in unguents most delicious,
Draped in rich jeweled robes, I often knelt,
But his imperious glances never dwelt
Upon me prostrate, in shy ways ambitious.

He passed me by in majesty elated,
And no soft flattery for my presence found,
For he in fertile Gilgal had been crowned,
And was by loud success intoxicated.

And yet no thought of feminine resentment
For outraged feeling did I cherish then;
He still remained to me the lord of men;
His beauty filled me with a vast contentment.

For was I not more beauteous, love-enraptured,
Than his dusk wives, and slaves, and dancing girls,
More fair, with my perfumes, and rings, and curls,
Than the Philistine maidens he had captured?

Aye, and glad hopes were in my bosom teeming,
For mystic intuitions most benign
Had warned me of the hour he would be mine,
And I, serene, passed the long dull days dreaming.

For I revered his prowess and the glory
Of all his deeds, whene'er he wandered forth
To the drear, foeful ravines of the North,
To make in hottest fray his armor gory!

And I, in dreams, saw battles raging frantic,
Swift hurrying steeds and labyrinths of spears,
I heard the clash of tzinnahs and the cheers,
And over all I saw him tower gigantic!

A diadem upon his brows and weighted
With glistening greaves, a carnage-god most grand,
While in the supple terror of his hand
His massive, reeking chanith scintillated!

Ah, sweet Jehovah blest! Was he not glorious
The day the gross Amalekites he slew,
And dragged Agag, their king, and retinue,
Captive and gyved, unto his towns victorious?

Yea! and I loved his blind, impetuous valor,
The towering passions of his soul and eyes,
His brawny torso and his battle cries,
And all that face that never knew fear's pallor.

And when, war-worn, he feasted to restore him
From sullen thought, I with his slaves would come,
And to the sound of timbrel and of drum
Would dance in stately palace-ways before him!

Circled by glittering warriors and his spouses,
Moodily would he sit, sedate and mute,
Deaf to the stirring trebles of the lute,
Spurning the merriment and the mad carouses.

For deadly dreams and fantasies would seize him,
His valorous veins would bound with unknown fears,
While David, moved by his infuriate tears,
Would throb his moaning harp's soul forth to please him.

And I, who could have given him delectation,
I, who with loves insensate ever burned,
Was by my drowsy, dreamy monarch spurned,
But worshiped still in patient expectation.