1484
5.23
23.i.24
a day at the beach
ekphrastic for Albert Goodwin’s 1888
‘The Sultan and his Camp by the
Enchanted Lake’
He was a
striking amalgam of determination and timidity, of insight and fantasy, held
together by immense practical caution and an instinct for the fundamentals of
power. -- F. A. K. Yasamee:[56]
no more apple tea,
sweetmeat
enough!
he is thinking of a
next wrestling tournament
the lines of a poem
‘the enchanted lake’
a certain year and
season
in all eternity
he thinks of those
cannons took down the walls
four hundred years
Abdulhamid, bloody
sultan, caliph
scourge of the
Armenians
survivor of
assassinations
shaded, still prays
for a breeze
the fisherfolk sent
off
nets left
in favour of flags
of occasion
parasol match
harem a whisper off
everywhere the
empire declines
everything built is
to blow away
he is thinking of a letter
to write
he is thinking of
the legs he will carve
the Janissaries long
gone
parliament dissolved
here is an absolute
ruler
sits well away from
the plotters and knives
youngTurks,
reformers
timid with women
who he must not
trust
he is a man for
endtimes
he too will be
deposed
will die with this
empire
nets on the shore
dry between catches
there isn’t much of
a tide
keep that English
painter at a safe distance
so many consorts
will outlive him
no fish so trapped
as this weakling
who would guess
how he yearns to
swim away
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