19 JULY 1924, Page 15

POETRY.

THE SONG OF THE LAVENDER.

(From The Thousand Nights and One Night.) I AM no terrace flower, Vile hands and foolish talk Escape me,.

I grow in the hot brown dust, Loving not men, but man.

No slave, no city thing Can touch me.

Come to me in the waste heart of Arabia Far from the dwellings of pale men, For my delight is there.

I am the mistress of hermits, Wild bees, deer, and the bitter absinthe Are my sisters, ' I am a free girl knowing no market. Lust seeks me not, but the wild rider Seeks me.

I would wish you to come to the valleys Where the breeze kisses me at morning, I would wish you To lie near the wine of me.

Allah, Allah,

Even the camel-boy, telling of me, Forgets his oaths 1 Translated by E. POWYS MATUERS.