A silver pool

Chapter 24: GLASS BEADS

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About This Book

The volume gathers short, lyrical poems that move between intimate confession and vivid, travel-tinted scenes, often using sea, desert, and carnival imagery to evoke longing and desire. Many pieces treat love, loss, and memory with devotional or elegiac tones, transforming personal feeling into music and visual metaphor. Occasional persona poems and translated voice-poems recall distant cultures and theatrical figures, while recurring motifs—stars, fires, pools, and painted streets—anchor the collection’s contemplative mood.

GLASS BEADS

I was a mendicant, begging my bread

From pilgrims shouting the dawn,

And they gave me thorns that tore my robe,

And took my prayers in pawn.

But now, outside the Temple door,

I stand and let them pass;

While I watch for the sun on the Eastern hills,

They fumble beads of glass.