LA CASQUE D'OR
A NINA OLIVIER
OU laughing little light of wickedness, low ripples
round you love and coils
And twists the Casque of Gold about the child-face with
a child-caress.
O glory of the tangled net! O subtle vase of scented oils!
You laughing little light of wickedness!
Through all the misty wind of light that glamours round
you, sorceress,
Your face shines out with feline grace, exults, a tiger in
the toils!
They shall not hold your passion in: fling, fling your lips,
my murderess,
On mine that I may pass away, a vapour that your passion
boils,
A rose whose petals flutter down as cruel lips and fingers
press.
Hear one last careless laugh acclaim my corpse the latest
of your spoils,
You laughing little light of wickedness.
28