Nov 132013
 
I present this infant child of Idumaean midnight,
His pale wings powerless, plucked of flight:

All night my study's closed window glowed
With mirrored lamp's incense and burnished golds,
Each sad pane, alas, by harsh frost ringed and stamped
Until dawn's wide fingers calmed the ailing lamp 
     --insubstantial angel--
Unveiling to my tired Dad's eyes: the babe a-beam, 
Night's afterbirth--gifted relic of a dream!--
Raising round my father's mouth a faint, queer smile
In anemic silence;  day's blue dews freshened by sunrise palms....

Oh Mary, Mary, cradling our daughter to your kisses
--Cold feet so innocent!--Welcome, too, this three-headed brother!
Sing "lullay, lullay" with viol voice and frail harpsichord, will you?
Press with faded finger your fulsome breast, won't you?
Please, bleed the sibylline whiteness of a woman's soul
Between starvling lips, dropped from virgin skies....

Mallarme

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