Lovely and haunting:
"I could tell you stories like the past was dead and gone
But I know nothing changes in this world.
Every day the muezzin calls,
Sun comes up and Baghdad falls,
Before the eyes of storytelling girls.
She was just a poor man's daughter
Going down into the sultan's bed.
He was desert, she was water,
And he remembered every word she said.
She said and I say;
Grandma, grandma,
Be with me
In your tragic wedding gown
With your long hair hanging down
And the stories tumbling out..."
~ Anaïs Mitchell
No comments:
Post a Comment