On the desert br A silence from the moon's deepest valley. br Fire rays fall athwart the robes br Of hooded men, squat and dumb. br Before them, a woman br Moves to the blowing of shrill whistles br And distant thunder of drums, br While mystic things, sinuous, dull with terrible colour, br Sleepily fondle her body br Or move at her will, swishing stealthily over the sand. br The snakes whisper softly; br The whispering, whispering snakes, br Dreaming and swaying and staring, br But always whispering, softly whispering. br The wind streams from the lone reaches br Of Arabia, solemn with night, br And the wild fire makes shimmer of blood br Over the robes of the hooded men br Squat and dumb. br Bands of moving bronze, emerald, yellow, br Circle the throat and the arms of her, br And over the sands serpents move warily br Slow, menacing and submissive, br Swinging to the whistles and drums, br The whispering, whispering snakes, br Dreaming and swaying and staring, br But always whispering, softly whispering. br The dignity of the accursed; br The glory of slavery, despair, death, br Is in the dance of the whispering snakes.