The Fan

 LOVELY Semiramis 
Closes her slanting eyes: 
Dead is she long ago.
From her fan, sliding slow, Parrot-bright fire's feathers, Gilded as June weathers, Plumes bright and shrill as grass Twinkle down; as they pass Through the green glooms in Hell Fruits with a tuneful smell, Grapes like an emerald rain, Where the full moon has lain, Greengages bright as grass, Melons as cold as glass, Piled on each gilded booth, Feel their cheeks growing smooth.
Apes in plumed head-dresses Whence the bright heat hisses,-- Nubian faces, sly Pursing mouth, slanting eye, Feel the Arabian Winds floating from the fan.

Poem by
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - The FanEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Poems are below...

Top Dame Edith Sitwell Poems

Analysis and Comments on The Fan

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem The Fan here.