Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Africa: Vol. XXIV. 1876–79.
The Awakener in the Desert
By Ferdinand Freiligrath (18101876)B
A royal-looking lion stands,
As yellow as the sand he treads,
Or the Simoom that round him spreads.
Waves round his breast, his ample mane;
A royal crown of passing show,
His stiff hair, bristles on his brow.
So wild and hollow is the strain,
It booms along the desert sand
And shakes the flood on Mœris’ strand.
The fleet gazelle flies terrified;
Camel and crocodile ashore
List to the monarch’s angry roar.
The Pyramids fling back the sound,
The royal mummy, brown and weary,
It wakes from out his slumbers dreary.
“Thanks, Lion, for that roar of thine!
Thousands of years in sleep I ’ve passed,
Awoke by thy loud roar at last.
Years fringed with splendor, where are ye?
When victory’s banners round me flew,
Lion, thy sires my chariot drew.
Its pole was bright with burnished gold,
And spokes and wheels with pearls did shine;
The town of a hundred gates was mine.
Trod on the black Moor’s matted hair,
On Indian’s yellow brow was placed,
On necks of children of the waste.
Now with stiff byssus close enfurled;
What yonder hieroglyphics tell
This bosom bore and knew full well.
With my own hand I helped to rear;
I sat upon the spear-girt throne,
My steward made the brickfields groan.
Rocked me on rapid keel awhile;
Long have I lain in deep repose,
The Nile-stream yet as ever flows.
Ceased had the Desert Wakener’s roar,
And sank again the monarch’s head
Down in the silence of the dead.