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  • Format: ePub

Alone in the Wind, on the Prairie   To Lady Jane   How I Walked Alone in the Jungles of Heaven Fifth Section
The Poem Games
  An Account of the Poem Games   The King of Yellow Butterflies   The Potatoes' Dance   The Booker Washington Trilogy      I. Simon Legree     II. John Brown    III. King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba   How Samson Bore Away the Gates of Gaza The Chinese Nightingale and Other Poems
First Section
The Chinese Nightingale
A Song in Chinese Tapestries
  "How, how," he said. "Friend Chang," I said,   "San Francisco sleeps as the dead—   Ended license,
…mehr

Produktbeschreibung
Alone in the Wind, on the Prairie
  To Lady Jane
  How I Walked Alone in the Jungles of Heaven
Fifth Section

The Poem Games

  An Account of the Poem Games
  The King of Yellow Butterflies
  The Potatoes' Dance
  The Booker Washington Trilogy
     I. Simon Legree
    II. John Brown
   III. King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba
  How Samson Bore Away the Gates of Gaza
The Chinese Nightingale and Other Poems

First Section

The Chinese Nightingale

A Song in Chinese Tapestries

  "How, how," he said. "Friend Chang," I said,
  "San Francisco sleeps as the dead—
  Ended license, lust and play:
  Why do you iron the night away?
  Your big clock speaks with a deadly sound,
  With a tick and a wail till dawn comes round.
  While the monster shadows glower and creep,
  What can be better for man than sleep?"
  "I will tell you a secret," Chang replied;
  "My breast with vision is satisfied,
  And I see green trees and fluttering wings,
  And my deathless bird from Shanghai sings."
  Then he lit five fire-crackers in a pan.
  "Pop, pop," said the fire-crackers, "cra-cra-crack."
  He lit a joss stick long and black.
  Then the proud gray joss in the corner stirred;
  On his wrist appeared a gray small bird,
  And this was the song of the gray small bird:
  "Where is the princess, loved forever,
  Who made Chang first of the kings of men?"
  And the joss in the corner stirred again;
  And the carved dog, curled in his arms, awoke,
  Barked forth a smoke-cloud that whirled and broke.
  It piled in a maze round the ironing-place,
  And there on the snowy table wide
  Stood a Chinese lady of high degree,
  With a scornful, witching, tea-rose face….
  Yet she put away all form and pride,
  And laid her glimmering veil aside
  With a childlike smile for Chang and for me.