I am here and Shangri-La, Samarkand,Zanzibar, Xanadu, and El DoradoAre but dreams, driftedInto bygone lifetimes, hazy, with onlyVague memories to bring them to life.Their beauty and promise live in the soul,Their golden streets and jeweled minarets Live beneath a star-studded midnight sky.The world was young then, aliveAs dark-skinned girls dancedIn thin veils of gauzy splendor,Eyes flashing like dark stars,Jeweled navels, jingling ankles,Arms laden with circlets of silver and gold,While Rich men on plush cushions, threw coinsAt the feet of their whirling forms.Those days of opulent glory are no more. Only their legends remain to remind usOf the haunting magnificence that was ours.
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