These Poems Poem by Michael Shepherd

Greet these poems as you would greet
at your tent-flap a wise man come from far;

drink with him a cup of wine
that tastes like the memory of roses;

then sit and eat with him as the evening falls
by the flickering flames, under a canopy of desert stars,

remembering great men and great deeds;
feeling your backbone tall with their memory;

recall lines of poetry which have crept into your heart
like your faithful hunting-hound, sprawled with a long sigh
beside the fire;

and look around at the glowing embers catching
with their light, the shining eyes of your companions
cross-legged in a circle,

rejoicing in their hearts at a fortune which is theirs
so great that they can only sit in silence and become
a stillness beyond time.

*

Freely adapted from Ibn Qutayba’s 9th-century book on literature.