Nine Dragons Poet Narrative

A Night's Jest

Listen...
The night seems paused,
Like the hunter downwind its happless prey;
A silence crouched in a quiet.
It lend to itself a stealth that in these shadows lay,
We may be better off to follow its lead.
Let us duck beyond the reed,
Let the gentle brook bicker over us,
And lend our tongues to monastic solitudes,
And vows of silence,
And speak not till nature finds herself
A newer cause,
Or the dawn vanquishes the need.
And the cock crows,
Midst the hollow stems and lovage weed.
Ah, the life of a cut-purse—
Ere such audition e'er dreamt the need rehearse.
"Life accompanies error,"
And we are full of its merry bliss
How ere it come to this?
A frog atop its lily
Staring at us, so silly.
By so late an hour,
Clowns before rogues—
"And all wet."
The clever night has made us its jest
Let us retreat from fen to den:
A warm hearth and dry clothes,
And conceal our conciet,
For ere the wind of rumor blows
And give nock to doors and wake windows,
Inviting eyes to spy our predicament,
And see where our path lent tself
To such wasteful end

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