, And in the shades of falling day As in the distance dying, A little call will come to me, "Leblebidji!" ...
* Little white beans
ABOVE the city at his feet, Above the dome, above the sea, He rises unconfined and free To break upon the noonday heat.
He turns around the parapet, Black-robed against the marble tower; His singing gains or loses power In pacing round the minaret.
A brother to the singing birds He never knew restraining walls, But freely rises, freely falls The rhythm of the sacred words.
I would that it to me were given To climb each day the muezzin's stair And in the warm and silent air To sing my heart out into Heaven.
THE GREEK HAN
A SUNNY court with wooden balconies, And wool hung out to dry in gaudy skeins, A fountain, and some pigeons murmuringly Picking up yellow grains.
Pass through a little tumble-down green door Into the dark and crowded shop; the Turk Crouching above the brasier, smiles and nods; 'Tis
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