THE EQUINOX There in the lonely bordj across the dreadful lines of sleeping men, Swart sons of the Sahara, thou didst writhe slim, sinuous and swift, Warning me with a viper’s hiss—and was not death upon us then, No bastard of thy maiden kiss? God’s grace, the all-surpassing gift! E] Arabi! El Arabi! Yea, death is man’s Elixir when Life’s pale wine foams and splashes over his imagination’s rim! El] Arabi! El Arabi! El Arabi! witch-amber and obsidian Thine eyes are, to ensorcell me, and leonine thy male caress. Will not God grant us Paradise to end the music Earth began? We play with loaded dice! He cannot choose but raise right hand to bless. EI Arabi! El Arabi! Great is the love of God and man While I am trembling in thine arms, wild wanderer of the wilderness! El Arabi! Hiitpa NorFo_k. 38