Chapter 11
poem number eleven of thirty american poems by various heliodora by h t this letter box recording is in the public domain reading by matt heliodora he and i sought together over the spattered table rinds and flowers gifts for a name he said among others i will bring and the phrase was just as good but not as good as mine the narcissus that loves the rain we strove for a name while the light of the lamps burnt thin and the outer dawn came in a ghost the last at the feast or the first to sit within with the two that remained to quibble in flowers and verse over a girl's name he said the rain loving i said the narcissus drunk drunk with the rain yet i had lost for he had said the rose the lover's gift is loved of love he said it loved of love i waited even as he spoke to see the room filled with a light
as when in winter the embers catch in a wind when a room is dank so it would be filled i thought our room with a light when he said and he said at first the rose the lover's delight his love of love but the light was the same then he caught seeing the fire in my eyes my fire my fever perhaps for he leaned with the purple wine stained in his sleeve and said this did you ever think a girl's mouth caught in a kiss is a lily that laughs i had not i saw it now as men must see it forever afterwards no poet could write again the red lily a girl's laugh caught in a kiss it was his to pour in the vat from which all poets dip and quaff for poets are brothers in this so i saw the fire in his eyes it was almost my fire he was younger i saw the face so white my heart beat it was almost my phrase i said surprise the muses take them by surprise it is late rather it is dawn rise those ladies sleep the nine our own king's mistresses
a name to rhyme flowers to bring to a name which was one girl faint and shy with eyes like the myrtle i said her underlids are rather like myrtle devy with the nine let him take the name he had the rhymes the rose loved of love the lily a mouth that laughs he had the gift the scented crocus the purple hyacinth what was one girl to the nine he said i will make her a wreath he said i will write it thus i will bring you the lily that laughs i will twine with soft narcissus the myrtle sweet crocus white violet the purple hyacinth and last the rose loved of love that these may drip on your hair the less soft flowers may mingle sweet with the sweet of heliodora's locks myr curled he wrote myr curled i think the first i said they sleep the nine when he shouted swift and passionate that for the nine above the mountains the sun is about to wake and to-day white violets shine beside white lilies adrift on the mountain side to-day the narcissus opens
that loves the rain i watched him to the door catching his robe as the wine bowl crashed to the floor spilling a few wet lees ah his purple hyacinth i saw him out of the door i thought there will never be a poet in all the centuries after this who will dare write after my friend's verse a girl's mouth is a lily kissed the
