Upon the beach a thousand lights proclaim
The people’s worship of their thousand gods;
A thousand bulls are sacrificed to flame
Within the thousand brazier tripods.
They leave some choicest cuts for him who shakes
The earth from out his oceanic realm,
And then each ardent supplicant partakes
Until the night and numen overwhelm.
A thousand miles away a woman sounds
While on a tripod singular and keen;
She sits above a hollow on the grounds
Around the sun god’s temple, where she’s seen
The thousand tripods burning on the beach
A thousand miles away, but still in reach.
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