The Muezzin

Vita Sackville-West

Above the city at his feet, Above the dome, above the sea, He rises unconfined and free To break upon the noonday heat.

He turns around the parapet, Black-robed against the marble tower; His singing gains or loses power In pacing round the minaret.

A brother to the singing birds He never knew restraining walls, But freely rises, freely falls The rhythm of the sacred words.

I would that it to me were given To climb each day the muezzin’s stair And in the warm and silent air To sing my heart out into Heaven.