To cringe before the Caliph in Stamboul
For something sordid, trade.... He mouthed our verse
To please his guests, and I corrected him.
The man was cypress-sad and lone, but he
Could not be silent as the great should be,
Because he neither knew his place nor me.
The boatman marvelled at his lack of dignity.
They knew the currents. He was bent on steering,
And spoke of God in terms wellnigh endearing.
I see him still, sharp beard, black velvet mantle, ear-ring.