The Ballad of Isabelle Eberhardt av Patti Smith

The Ballad of Isabelle Eberhardt


I need a harem of men
so many rhythms within
my insatiable spin
the wind the sand
the worlds I embrace
the hottest place
the sad hospital
of my soul
billows as I roll
the terrain of new skin
I condemn any pattern
I bind I blend
other sedatives cigarettes
vines twisting under belts
of the female nerv

I need a harem of wisdom
time tirckling wit
sinking blood of scareb
the crescent wound
A life ago
I petitioned a harem
of gods and was struck
in the neck
the great weight
the flake of idols
bobbing heads of gods
rendered in the saber
of relinquished hearts
disbanded hands.

My throat a vehicle
I have moved from the caravan
to spread myself at your feet
I have vowed
to meet thee
in the belly of a rock
the last thing I'll see
is your stare within me
a liquid stretch
obscuring stench
that I may pass
from this existence
knowing I existed
holding fast the gold plate
the koranic script of stars.

I need a raft
to carry me over
the yellow river
a harem of prayers bells
chiming Isabelle
the ballad of a girl
the drunken violin
who drowned in the desert
wrapped in her name
dressed in sheets
of her own fair hand
waves of muslin
one last word
Islam I am
devour me
Lord.

Patti Smith

(hentet fra Tidskriftet Utflukt, 01/2008)