Or rustle round its rainbow-juice. We hushed
Our flights of eloquence when my roghan
Sizzled complacent in the frying-pan.
"Mashallah, what a life! Yet in this scene
I found a fleck of rust upon my tongue.
Propelled by Fate and my own force of lung,
I flitted with two reverend Maghrebín
Whom I had favoured, having learned the trick
Of speaking their foul breed of Arabic.
"Immortal spirits led us, yea the chief