The Ruba'Iyat of Creteil Lake - Part Eight

The Ruba’iyat of Créteil Lake – Part Eight At her feet gather daily plumage dark white to brown leather Pigeons geese crows sparrows larks and wild ducks in sunset colour And the resident owners of the waters by the fleet The snow-white swan-lake ships gliding majestic in clover Every day come older women with children or decrepit With sling bags stuffed with golden crumbs of yesterday’s baguette Some Berber women with sacks of semolina for couscous All to seek good works at her feet where waves lap up and beat Where the lazy louts of the spoilt winged clans wait on one leg Pretend to keep an appointment though not to seem to beg By rushing to providers with an air: hail dope well met! Till some Labrador runs amuck just missing a juicy leg Just then on that well-worn wooden bridge past the portcullis Did Old Khayyam steal in a glance a wisp of a form bliss Doe-eyed leaning on the rail in a gossamer negligee The infinitely lamented thing that’s this lady all miss Once more the Lass from Lahore lifts her dark diamond eyes The breeze softly displaces the cowlick from vision’s disguise Does she espy the Bard strain his thoughts fingers through his beard While the Dreamer Dame of the lake leaves without much choice! © T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013