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The Prayers

The rocking hands swayed me back,
The centuries full four and ten behind;
Placed me on the cold wet sandy bank,
At the time of dawn, half light, half night.
Behind I saw stretched sandy plains,
In front calm sea with small ridges
Moving when gentle air moved.

Far away I beheld a ship coming
Ashore from the remote distant land,
Anchored instantly after the voyage long.
I beheld then the men four riding on
The steeds, galloping along splashing waters;
Fully armoured,
Equipped with sharp shining swords;
And captured they the descending voyager,
From the shoulders who cast at me,
A resigned patient look.

Ah! I can recall the heavy rough brows,
Long nose, thick lips, complexion black,
Perforated ear with a silvery ringlet,
Long dress and loose sleeves.
Turned then he to the centre,
Bended knees, sat to offer the prayers,
Under the lurking long curved blades.

Then the same rocking hands brought me back,
To sign a bond, to make a new turn,
And rectify direction of the derailed gait,
Eyes I found watering full flowing,
Drenching cheeks and the whiskers all.

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