sw00381jt-b1.e16

Justan Tamarind: Book I       e16                            



Of castigating books, memorials.
But Moiland is not Aethea, and gulls
To one, may, to an other, be hawks.
Each has/ its own kernels, its own hulls;
And if, of Ruam, Seth Bedara talks
A thousand times (though there is no need),
Crowds will gather: in yards and streets, on walks;
For they/ will/ have their saints, and not a reed
Or whip or chain could change them.  Indeed,

What is done in deed, and satisfies
Our highest instincts, must realize
Our highest praise.  Today, the Tamarind line
Shall end itself: an act which Ruam's eyes
Would brighten at, as some men's do from wine,
While Rofnoe's would be turned aside and down,
Though he too was a king of heart and spine,
A ruler of imperishable renown;
The fourth of Moiland to receive a crown

Of gratitude.  That observation spire,
Or spire to be, from which we may admire
This region's beauties: from the Durin Sea
To Ranyon, and Fudera's crumbling pyre;
From The Mounds of Tamarind to Grau-Lee,
Where the Durin mountains twine to the shore
And Rofnoe's village, Edenshire, where he
Was born, that tower--.  "No monarchs anymore?!
You mean what you say, DeVry?!  We?!  What for?

Should the squirrels forget to gather meats
And starve?  What nonsense--this, he greets
Us with!  Yes, we did agree to let you,
You--The House of Princes--you elites,
Convene in secret councils to review
Our royal system; but we did not think
Your minds would come to such conclusions.  Do
Explain yourselves/ so we do not all shrink/
From your hopes/ before they're set afloat to sink

Or sail.  And if you do convince us, still,
That we may better understand your will,
I say our Justan, though no longer king,
Should temporarily be our leader, till
Whatever must be done to fuse this thing
You speak of, is completed.  We can
Not be expected to expel the ring
As we loosen our bowels with fibrous bran.
Us'ly a revolution fills the span 





Brian A. J. Salchert