Cressida
Her returning footsteps fell
On darkened steps like
The anguished leaves torn
From the boughs to adorn
The dull columns of a room
Made festive for the evening's
Dinner. It had happened
At last – the final betrayal;
(Do not call is so, said
The partner), and she, the female
Pander, removed with such maternal
Care all chances of intrusion!
She was a quarter of an hour
Late, said the butler; the sweat
Mingling with the amorphous
Ache, which was not quite remorse,
She took her place beside the host,
The shadow of a man, whose precise
Movements of greeting guests
She knew by heart. Impeccable,
Impervious to all tremors
Of her soul, he now carved
The roast doling out with enviable
Neatness the best portion to the guest
On whose hairy chest she had panted so;
Grieved, died and lived an hour ago.
Dacca, 1968
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