Red Set

Red Set

Red is the color of my true love’s hair;
it sweetens the night with the full strength of the moon,
rising in a dark sky to take his place as ruler of heaven.
Red is the color of my true love’s hair.

He has come down from the north wearing a crown of stars;
I behold other virtues that excel the desert mountains which pierce the firmament.
O Lord of Gold let me see you by lamplight, your strong shadow extended;
to behold the length of your loins striking against the northern sky.

Red is the color of my true love’s hair;
scented with a cloud of myrrh whose storm overcomes my reason.
When the thunder of a drum pounds through the sky,
I wait for the lightning that fills my bed with exhilarating fire.

Why should I hound my heart with reassurances of safety,
when the red net of his hair thrills a heart seeking danger?
All day and all night he fastens his net about my bare neck;
and who yearns for liberation when he can find freedom in restraint?

My brother has a bow of triple strength drawn back against the sky;
I place myself beneath its aim to accommodate his danger.
My lord’s aim is of high renown, a marksman of unfailing virtue;
and when he brings his virtue home how fall the constellations.

Red is the color of my true love’s hair,
who comes from the north clad only in gold to challenge the sun.
When night possesses the Two Lands he wields control of the moon;
its ivory embrace seeking sun-charged thighs from which the shadows flee.

Red Set whose mighty arm is most feared among the Gods;
a club with stellar potency from whose aim goddesses take flight.
His is the vigor of that falcon’s wings riding high upon the gale;
a storm of terrible delight when it tears the delicate bedclothes of the sky.

How I have been torn when in his storm I find myself entangled;
with red hair knotted about my waist, I am defeated by a sailor of the sky.
He stands tall in the barque of the sun with stride spanning vault’s
hallowed lights;
by night he commands the river of the sky from between those long legs striding.

My true love’s hair is lustrous and red like that of the Lord of the Wind;
his call by day is a tempest at play over the red sands churning.
His call by night is a red hawk in flight with wings that cut the air;
a panther between my legs with his prey that sets the bedclothes burning.

Red is the color of my true love’s hair when he appears by lamplight;
bringing with him the full moon at his back and noble stars in front.
Two globes of light swinging low I swallow with hungry lips;
lapis sky sees me drink the Milky Way when it shatters between his hips.

Red Set is my ally when twilight falls and my restless heart is hunting;
my lord has woven a net round my heart in whose tangles men find their virtue.
Who are they to make supplications of chastity when they are held by red desire?
Ask the dead how their purity availed them when the grave at last came calling.

I hear a titter from your heart locked securely against my intentions;
but the man who scoffs shall drink red wine from the palm of my hot hand.
Red Set shall bend your handsome back for me just like a bow;
his net will bind your heart to shoot fast with inexhaustible arrow.

Red Set has brought your scent to my bed diffusing as myrrh of heaven;
my body wet with your fresh sweat gives me the savor of a priest in service.
How devout I have been this night with your prayers upon my open lips;
and how sweet in my nostrils is the divine fragrance of your vanquishment.

Red is the color of my true love’s hair;
it brings by night the moon’s full light crowning the sphere of heaven.
His name rings the same as that Lord of Might to whom the skies
in exhaustion bow.
Red is the color of my true love’s hair.

All text copyright © 2016 Ptahmassu Nofra-Uaa

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