Saul among the Dervishes
Surely, they said, a wonder has taken the man That with torn raiment and frenzied mien He pirouettes like a top in the city street, Not even capable of walking straight As a boy sick or drunk with wine.
Is this absurdity the way to win Our wars against the camel-mounted nomad, To awe the strong and reassure the timid Giving cohesion to our scattered nation, A work requiring political tact and patience?
What a mishap! We had banked on his prudence Which we now see changed into folly and proudness.
He will certainly never make a prince.
But still he continued to leap and prance Twirling his staff with hair and beard flying
And the dust on his flanks was streaked with blood flowing In rivulets down from the naked thorn-gashed breast
And over the labouring muscles tautly braced.
He was inspired in heart, he was frenetic And the street women begged blessings from the dancing fanatic.
Not one whit cared he for the words of statesman or elder Knowing himself the wiser, though they the older And seeing them only given to fatness and ease, While naked and sweating with bloodshot eyes He capered and t\ikehed like a beast beneath the goad
Devoting himself to -honour the Lord his God.
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