Il Doge Di Venezia - III - April 4th

The evening went in splendid humour just
As I expected. Messer Luca bid
Us welcome at the door to his estab-
Lishment and held aloft a beaming smile
To see us once more at his door. He cursed
The shame that we had brought in not exchang-
Ing letters with him several months apart.
We proffered our apologies and waived
Away the charge, he helped us in and closed
The door with mighty thump and then produced
Our gift. A vibrant em’rald present all
The way from Turkey. Tasty sweetmeat found
In no Italian home, they took us to
The highest peak of purple hills and plunged
Us to the depths of boiling amber seas.
We flew with multi-headed birds through clouds
Which cut like glass and kissed like softest down.
We dug into the very soul of all
That is divine to feast upon the fruit
Which sat awaiting us to bite with stark
And rav’nous appetite. Music came
In, slowly paced and languished round our ears
With melancholy, dulcet octaves, grand
And striking melodies which formed a great
Concerto. I myself saw kingdoms lost
To time’s magnificent onslaught – Mongol hoards
From eastern lands who ripped and raped and roared
With bloody, terrifying screams did steal
And occupy my brain and beat me down
To fascination whence escape was not
Impossible although superfluous.
I watched as men would battle men and spill
Upon the floor their innards steaming hot
And fresh. I saw the Mongol King himself
Take pleasure in his victims, calling out
In ecstasy when struggle was no use.
He had his way with mothers, daughters, wives
And babes while staring at my soul. A grin
Upon his mouth did form and in my faith
I felt a pang of jealousy did burn
As burned the landscapes in my vision.
         Hours
In disputation passed as fighting I
Would reach and grasp to stop the flow of time
That I might hold on to these sights I saw
Forever ‘gainst all nature. No, alas,
‘Twas not to be for when I woke some while
Behind the drug, for sure my head was bare
Of vicious, brutal scenes – though locked away
Upon this page eternal they shall stand
In service as a memory to save
Me from forgetting dear Moretti’s deep
Hashish which threw me ‘round as though I was
A suckling child all innocent and dumb.

Tomorrow begs a new acquaintance prized
To be saluted - fair and fondly graced.
Signora Paula Azzone will meet
Us three with cheer no doubt though now I must
Retire. Exhaustion overcomes me – waves
Do crash against my form and leave the fight
With tiredness to one who cannot win.