The Market from Umbra

These many-coloured tents!
Their stands and their carts
And their hands on their hearts
see these Merchants!
Hear it:
A cacophony of sounds
Speaking and screaming
And laughing and singing
And Pleading
At the fringes of this market
Lie the remnants of my past
I see a face
I hear a voice
Do I know him?
I can recall
Nothing at all
Smell it:
Camel-fur and roasting meat
Taste them:
The spices carried on the wind
I can’t recall…
I can’t recall…
Taste it:
An apple far more red than coral
The knowledge it brings of these
Unrecalled things comes and goes
In my mind
Like a vaporous dream…
Recollecting is teasing me
But I cannot hold it
I can see these parts of my past
Life on display
Smell it:
The flow’r that no longer has
Its proper name
Not in my mind nor my heart
Can I find the last part of this mistery!
It haunts me!
This rosy face I can’t place
This market-boy
When everything else
Is a nebulous coast I can see
His lighthouse-eyes
They are guidind me to safety
The market on the shore
Behind me fades
I hear his call,
I hear his call…