Presented after defeat by the Ugliest General Yu to the Most Beautiful General Houang. – To Adolph Bolm
It is beautiful to be Ugliest;
Delight is geometric, acute:
A proud man of angles
Situated on a slender stool.
Ugliness surveys fierce Beauty striding,
Encroaching on his gauche domain.
He seethes and determines to remain.
It is beautiful to be Ugliest,
To see Beauty’s ugliness challenging:
He is a thousand grimaces,
A country of spears.
The rivals hurl themselves
Into cacophony of battle-music-
A whirlwind of whistles and gongs and bells.
In pursuit, out of the corners of slanting eyes,
Their boots are embroidered grins;
Their knees in the air bent to a sharp direction;
Their heads a struggle of feathers, pompons, and gems;
Their spears thrust zig-zag
And tangled with death.
Beauty battles to be beautiful;
But beautiful is Ugliness
Surging on toward Beauty and nonchalant death.
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