ninevah
Reading edition
by J. E. Kelleam
They say the bittern and the cormorant Have nested in the upper lintels there. The wind builds flowers of dust upon the air, Lifting and falling, slow and hesitant. Within the crumbling temples beasts have laired; Eyeless the windows, broken the terraces; No laughter breaks the silence. The palaces Are weathered and the cedar work is bared. If this be glory's wage, then let me trust The fragile things that are not built of might, The lovely things that leave no trace when gone: The rose that swiftly turns into the dust, Beauty that blazed a moment——Or a night Of golden stars forgotten with the dawn.
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BOK'S creatures of Lorelei
