Pearl of Persia
Pour the blood
Of red Grecian grapes
As the dervish
Who has won my soul
Dances spinning past
Is she born of Nile?
She sways in swarthy splendor
As the moon's light
Pours in from above
Bathed in its blue beams
And swaddled in
The well of my soul
With cymbals on her fingers
And bells on her toes
Who is this perfect vision
That drifts cool
Across the desert sand
And waits to sooth me
Is she of Iblis
That she might
Imprison my soul forever
Dwelling not in evil
And being not fire
And being not clay
But my lady
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