{"id":3409,"date":"2015-02-06T17:41:23","date_gmt":"2015-02-06T17:41:23","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/?p=3409"},"modified":"2019-02-11T06:34:06","modified_gmt":"2019-02-11T06:34:06","slug":"the-song-of-makeda-makeda-the-queen-of-shebas-reply-to-the-song-of-solomon-a-poem-by-sara-l-russell","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/the-song-of-makeda-makeda-the-queen-of-shebas-reply-to-the-song-of-solomon-a-poem-by-sara-l-russell\/","title":{"rendered":"The Song of Makeda (Makeda, the Queen of Sheba\u2019s reply to The Song of Solomon) A Poem by Sara L. Russell"},"content":{"rendered":"

 
\nCh. 1.
\n 
\n1.
\n 
\nBehold, thou art dark and comely, my love;
\nrichly hath the sun favoured thee,
\ndelighting in thy presence.
\nLet me savour thy kisses of wine;
\nfor in the gardens of the temple
\nthe lotus furls open,
\nwild bees fall asleep on her face.
\n 
\n2.
\n 
\nLilies and jasmine bloom
\nin the garden of my love;
\nfalls of wisteria,
\ncarpets of thyme.
\nLet us lie in the shade of the olives
\nto gaze on the sky.
\n 
\n3.
\n 
\nFor many hours my love slept
\nbeneath the cedars,
\ncouched on cool swathes of linen,
\nlike the Lord of Midnight enthroned on a cloud.
\nLong tresses of willows shivered to cool his face.
\nI called his name but he heard me not,
\nbeing entranced in slumber,
\ndeep in the thrall of dreams;
\ntherefore I shall let him awaken when he please.
\n 
\nCh. 2.
\n 
\n4.
\n 
\nA warm breath of nard is my master, my king,
\nA great golden deity haloed with stars.
\nBehold, the noble bearing of a king,
\nthe finely-wrought body of a man.
\nIn my dearest dreams he standeth before me
\nout of my reach, gesturing for me to follow,
\ncalling unto me like the very embodiment of love.
\n 
\n5.
\n 
\nNight comes softly, o daughters of Jerusalem,
\nMy king’s desirous eyes have grown heavy with sleep.
\nHis black hair ripples about his face
\nlike curtains of smoke,
\ngold bracelets entice my gaze to
\nthe sinews of his arms.
\nLike roses unfurling, so open the lips of my love,
\nI burn for their flavour,
\nyet awaken him not till he please.
\n 
\nCh. 3.
\n 
\n6.
\n 
\nOut of the forest I came, with my
\nmaidens and minions;
\nwith carpets of hibiscus strewn at my feet.
\nColumns of frankincense curved into the air,
\nburning from lamps of copper and gold.
\nFrom the broad slopes of Edom
\nmy soul’s love stopped to observe us.
\nI felt his warm gaze upon me,
\nso soft a look as touched like caresses of hands.
\nI am weary with desire, my lord and king,
\nBring me the looks of thine eyes, dark as midnight,
\nThat regard me with touches of silk.
\n 
\n7.
\n 
\nThough I may stand with my legion before thee,
\nan army behind me,
\nThe west wind roars to my left,
\nthe east to my right,
\na million strong with all my banners, warriors
\nand standard-bearers,
\nstill my delight were only to serve thee,
\nsee how I tremble with awe by thy side.
\n 
\n8.
\n 
\nBehold, my ladies, the noble bearing of a king,
\nthe finely-wrought body of a man.
\nMy king is a custodian of the sanctity of love,
\nsee those arms with the strength to smite
\nyet full of the will to embrace.
\nNightly cometh he to my chambers,
\nwhispering of love,
\nwith the stealth of a lion,
\nas meek as a lamb.
\n 
\nCh. 4.
\n 
\n9.
\n 
\nPreparing for my beloved,
\nI have put on my mantle of midnight sky
\ngarlanded with stars.
\nMy black locks are hung with beads of gold,
\nmy neck is anointed with sandalwood and rose.
\nCome, my ladies,
\nBring me my white chargers,
\nmy sedan lined with silks from Lebanon,
\nmy heralds and cavalcades of guards;
\nMy beloved king awaits my pleasure.
\n 
\n10.
\n 
\nWhen I am in the embrace of my beloved,
\nHe is worlds of landscapes of desire,
\nhe is all the earth, air and sky to me.
\nHis eyes shineth as my sun and moon,
\nhis broad chest becometh as the
\ncool desert dunes by night,
\nwhere I may rest my head.
\nGo safely in thy dreams, beloved king,
\nwith sentinel angels, to roost with the doves.
\n 
\nCh. 5.
\n 
\n11.
\n 
\nSuch a turmoil of a dream
\nhath troubled me, my sisters,
\nI dreamed that my love approached my window,
\nCalling unto me through the
\nrosewood trefoils of the lattice.
\nForgetful of our tryst I answered him not,
\nall oils and fine trappings were put away,
\nmine eyes were full of slumber.
\nWhen finally I rose from my bed
\nhe had gone.
\n 
\n12.
\n 
\nOverwrought and afraid,
\nI went out in the streets,
\ncalling unto my beloved,
\nreceiving no answer and calling again.
\nThe night watchmen came and found me,
\nthey smote me and denounced me as pagan,
\ncalling me harlot and worshipper of false idols,
\nharshly they beat me with flails
\nand threw me into the darkest cellars
\nof the palace of Solomon.
\n 
\n13.
\n 
\nAwakening at last,
\nI felt a warm breeze,
\nIt was my love’s breath upon my face.
\nLet all the world suspend in time,
\nlet hate, rage and darkness flee as a shadow,
\notherwise let me die here in the arms of my king.
\nThere is but this one hour, one place,
\nin one lingering moment,
\nWhen my soul’s love and I are conjoined
\nin the petals of love.
\n 
\nCh. 6.
\n 
\n14.
\n 
\nMidnight has fallen in the gardens
\nof the temple of Solomon.
\nThe moon communes with her sister in the lake,
\npainting the magnolias with mother-of-pearl,
\nturning her buds into silver doves.
\nPassion and beauty intertwine in my love’s garden,
\nLike the twisted trunks of the fig trees of Judea.
\nBehold, my beloved,
\nthou art more comely even than the moon.
\nCome and walk with me
\nin the balmy air of night.
\n 
\n15.
\n 
\nOnly through the love of another may
\na soul come to know of itself.
\nMy king is mine and I am his;
\nThe sun and moon each taketh their
\nturn in the sky,
\nthe shepherds go sure-footed
\nover their hills and valleys,
\nthe merchants go their ways in the
\nspice markets of Lebanon,
\nwhile he and I are lost in one another’s eyes.
\n 
\nCh. 7.
\n 
\n16.
\n 
\nLove’s weariness hath overcome me,
\nbeloved lord and king.
\nBring me thy pleasant fruits, thy tender words,
\nLie betwixt my breasts; my hair shall
\nbe thy curtain,
\nthese arms shall be as thy cocoon.
\nLet the tides cease their turning
\nand the winds give pause to hold their breath.
\nAwaken not my dearest love, until he please.
\n 
\n17.
\n 
\nEven in sleep,
\nsuch beautiful eyes hath my beloved;
\nhis eyelashes rest upon his cheek
\nlike the feet of a butterfly on a lily.
\nCome, my sisters, we shall make him
\na bed of hemp and poppies,
\nwith fruit of the lotus,
\nthat he may languish beside me
\nfor many days and nights.
\n 
\nCh. 8.
\n 
\n18.
\n 
\nFilling my days and dreams,
\nhere is a man with the grace of a young hart,
\nwhose honeyed voice speaketh mantras of desire.
\nArise and follow me, beloved, for my vineyards
\nare ripe with luscious fruits,
\nthe doves beat their wings and fly from the cots.
\nEmerging from the amber of sunrise,
\nwith a swirling of veils,
\nsummer dances into the season of our love.
\n 
\n19.
\n 
\nLying amid the twisting vines
\nMy love and I are deep in each other’s embrace
\nand his lips taste of roses heavy with dew.
\nI am a queen of the Red Sea,
\nan orchid from a sacred garden,
\nand my kingdom reacheth to the farthest hills.
\nNone but my love shall pass the boundary
\nwhere my vines bear the sweetest fruit,
\nnor taste their heady wine.
\n 
\n20.
\n 
\nThe gates of my vineyard are wrought of
\niron clad with gold,
\ntaller than cedars, decorated with
\nthe royal insignia,
\nguarded by three score watchmen,
\nby day and night.
\nWhile other men are kept without
\nand the foxes are driven back by dogs,
\nsee how swiftly they open for thee.
\n 
\nCh. 9.
\n 
\n21.
\n 
\nBehold, the noble stature of a king,
\nthe finely-wrought body of a man.
\nIn the sanctity of love
\nwe may walk in the realm of paradise,
\nundisturbed by the foibles of men.
\nCome beloved, awaken,
\nthe new dawn opens as wide and fresh
\nas infant eyes.
\nCome run with me through the spice hills
\nand gardens of Lebanon.<\/p>\n

<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"Sara<\/a>
\n 
\nSara Louise Russell, aka PinkyAndrexa, is a UK poet and poetry ezine editor, specialising particularly in sonnets, lyric-style poetry and occasionally writing in more modern styles. She founded Poetry Life & Times<\/em> and edited it from 1998 to 2006, when she handed it over to Robin Ouzman Hislop and Amparo Arrospide; Robin now runs it as Editor from Poetry Life & Times<\/a>. She is currently founder and Editor of the daily paper.li journal, Poetry Lifetimes ; which is a sister publication to Poetry Life & Times<\/em>. Her poems and sonnets have been published in many paper and online publications including Sonnetto Poesia, Mindful of Poetry <\/em>and Autumn Leaves<\/em> a monthly Poetry ezine from the late Sondra Ball. Her sonnets also currently appear in the recently published anthology of sonnets Phoenix Rising from the Ashes<\/em>. She is also one of the first poets ever to be published on multimedia CD ROMs, published by Kedco Studios Inc.<\/em>; the first one being “Pinky’s Little Book of Shadows”<\/em>, which was featured by the UK’s national newspaper The Daily Mirror<\/em>, in October 1999. (Picture link for Mirror article)Angel Fire<\/a><\/strong>
\n <\/strong>
\n 
\n 
\nrobin@artvilla.com<\/a>
\nPoetryLifeTimes<\/a>
\nPoetry Life & Times<\/a><\/strong>
\neditor@artvilla.com<\/a>
\nwww.artvilla.com<\/a>
\nArtvilla.com<\/a><\/strong>
\n <\/p>\n

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  Ch. 1.   1.   Behold, thou art dark and comely, my love; richly hath the sun favoured thee, delighting in thy presence. Let me savour thy kisses of wine; for in the gardens of the temple the lotus furls open, wild bees fall asleep on her face.   2.   Lilies and jasmine … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":2757,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[43,65],"tags":[18,136,3],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3409"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3409"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3409\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6789,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3409\/revisions\/6789"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2757"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3409"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3409"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3409"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}