<h3><SPAN name="Condemned_Women" id="Condemned_Women"></SPAN>Condemned Women</h3>
<p class="margin-b">
Like thoughtful cattle on the yellow sands reclined,<br/>
They turn their eyes towards the horizon of the sea,<br/>
Their feet towards each other stretched, their hands entwined,<br/>
They tell of gentle yearning, frigid misery.<br/>
<br/>
A few, with heart-confiding faith of old, imbued<br/>
Amid the darkling grove, where silver streamlets flow,<br/>
Unfold to each their loves of tender infanthood,<br/>
And carve the verdant stems of the vine-kissed portico.<br/>
<br/>
And others like unto nuns with footsteps slow and grave,<br/>
Ascend the hallowed rocks of ancient mystic lore,<br/>
Where long ago—St. Anthony, like a surging wave,<br/>
The naked purpled breasts of his temptation saw.<br/>
<br/>
And still some more, that 'neath the shimmering masses stroll,<br/>
Among the silent chasm of some pagan caves,<br/>
To soothe their burning fevers unto thee they call<br/>
O Bacchus! who all ancient wounds and sorrow laves.<br/>
<br/>
And others again, whose necks in scapulars delight,<br/>
Who hide a whip beneath their garments secretly,<br/>
Commingling, in the sombre wood and lonesome night,<br/>
The foam of torments and of tears with ecstasy.<br/>
<br/>
O virgins, demons, monsters, and O martyred brood!<br/>
Great souls that mock Reality with remorseless sneers,<br/>
O saints and satyrs, searchers for infinitude!<br/>
At times so full of shouts, at times so full of tears!<br/>
<br/>
You, to whom within your hell my spirit flies,<br/>
Poor sisters—yea, I love you as I pity you,<br/>
For your unsatiated thirsts and anguished sighs,<br/>
And for the vials of love within your hearts so true.<br/></p>
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