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Rudyard Kipling - La Nuit BlancheRudyard Kipling - La Nuit Blanche
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A much-discerning Public hold    The Singer generally sings  And prints and sells his past for gold.  Whatever I may here disclaim,    The very clever folk I sing to    Will most indubitably cling to  Their pet delusion, just the same. I had seen, as the dawn was breaking  And I staggered to my rest, Tari Devi softly shaking  From the Cart Road to the crest. I had seen the spurs of Jakko  Heave and quiver, swell and sink. Was it Earthquake or tobacco,  Day of Doom, or Night of Drink? In the full, fresh fragrant morning  I observed a camel crawl, Laws of gravitation scorning,  On the ceiling and the wall; Then I watched a fender walking,  And I heard grey leeches sing, And a red-hot monkey talking  Did not seem the proper thing. Then a Creature, skinned and crimson,  Ran about the floor and cried, And they said that I had the "jims" on,  And they dosed me with bromide, And they locked me in my bedroom  Me and one wee Blood Red Mouse Though I said: "To give my head room  You had best unroof the house." But my words were all unheeded,  Though I told the grave M.D. That the treatment really needed  Was a dip in open sea That was lapping just below me,  Smooth as silver, white as snow, And it took three men to throw me  When I found I could not go. Half the night I watched the Heavens  Fizz like `81 champagne Fly to sixes and to sevens,  Wheel and thunder back again; And when all was peace and order  Save one planet nailed askew, Much I wept because my warder  Would not let me sit it true. After frenzied hours of wating,  When the Earth and Skies were dumb, Pealed an awful voice dictating  An interminable sum, Changing to a tangle story  "What she said you said I said" Till the Moon arose in glory,  And I found her . . . in my head; Then a Face came, blind and weeping,  And It couldn`t wipe its eyes, And It muttered I was keeping  Back the moonlight from the skies; So I patted it for pity,  But it whistled shrill with wrath, And a huge black Devil City  Poured its peoples on my path. So I fled with steps uncertain  On a thousand-year long race, But the bellying of the curtain  Kept me always in one place; While the tumult rose and maddened  To the roar of Earth on fire, Ere it ebbed and sank and saddened  To a whisper tense as wire. In tolerable stillness  Rose one little, little star, And it chuckled at my illness,  And it mocked me from afar; And its breathren came and eyed me,  Called the Universe to aid, Till I lay, with naught to hide me,  `Neath` the Scorn of All Things Made. Dun and saffron, robed and splendid,  Broke the solemn, pitying Day, And I knew my pains were ended,  And I turned and tried to pray; But my speech was shattered wholly,  And I wept as children weep. Till the dawn-wind, softly, slowly,  Brought to burning eyelids sleep.
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