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Tarantella

 

Do you remember an Inn,

Miranda ?

Do you remember an Inn ?

And the tedding and the spreading

Of the straw for a bedding,

And the fleas that tease in the High Pyrenees,

And the wine that tasted of the tar ?

And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteers

(Under the dark of the vine verandah) ?

Do you remember an Inn, Miranda,

Do you remember an Inn ?

And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteers

Who hadn’t got a penny,

And who weren’t paying any,

And the hammer at the doors and the din ?

And the Hip! Hop! Hap!

Of the clap

Of the hands to the twirl and the swirl

Of the girl chancing,

Glancing,

Dancing,

Backing and advancing,

Snapping of the clapper to the spin

Out and in –

And the Ting, Tong, Tang of the guitar!

Do you remember an Inn,

Miranda ?

Do you remember an Inn ?

Never more;

Miranda,

Never more.

Only the high peaks hoar;

And Aragon a torrent at the door.

No sound

In the walls of the Halls where falls

The tread

Of the feet to the dead to the ground.

No sound :

Only the boom

Of the far Waterfall like Doom.

 

Hilaire Belloc

 
 
Dance Poetry
A comprehensive anthology
Edited by Alkis Raftis
Copyright 2012

©