1
Dlivándor is a planet that we own.
I mean that recently it was annexed
By Udi when she governed Ung alone,
Ere the enthronement of our Monarch next,
2
King Ajinblambia, of whom I sing.
It’s true that she’d built spaceships for the Queen
Before she did herself become the King
And make herself the mistress of the scene.
3
In fact, the planet’s name is really ‘Dli’,
While ‘vandor’ is an adjective suffixed
That means ‘mysterious’, for so do we
Regard that distant body dimly fixed
4
In its trajectory around our sun,
A yellow dwarf named Dyo, in distant Ti,
Which of the scores of galaxies is one,
Some megaparsecs from thy friends and thee.
5
The Milky Way, which scarcely we in Ung
With telescopes sophisticated see,
Goes by the name of ‘Zwáfna’ in our tongue.
It’s visible in Cnáshca, faint and wee,
6
Like to a piece of cotton or a thistle,
Pinned unto night’s great velvet cloak of black,
Afar, afar! Beneath my breath I whistle
To contemplate the distance there and back.
7
This Cnáshca I have nempt is but a suite
Of twinkling stars. It is a constellation.
We too have given names as we found meet
To stellar clusters shining o’er our nation.
8
So ‘Cnáshca’ means ‘the Chevron’, for it seems
Like to a V inverted in the sky,
That is, a rafter that could carry beams,
And in its apex, Zwafna we descry.
9
There are some other constellations too.
There’s Pójolfs, or the Tankard, and there’s Zhrinx.
We’ve Fnóthcerd that we scarce up north can view
For in the southern hemisphere it slinks.
10
Another one is Tlétman, famous here,
Along with Gvalt. There’s Dwadf, the Twins, as well,
Which not for Gemini is named I fear,
Because thereof we never have heard tell.
11
O’er our North Pole hangs brilliant Alpha Zhrinx,
Which also we call Órobux, not far,
A mere two light-year journey, and it shrinks
As our improving ships aim at that star.
12
Our aerospace facility, built new
By Ajinblambia with Udi’s fīat,
After consideration fit and due
By all the lords and ladies of our Diet,
13
In Dórgdid, second city, proudly stands.
Thereout a caravan of spaceships taxis,
The labor of the deftest of our hands.
Some of our ships are minis, others maxis,
14
But all do bear the impress of the stamp
Impalmed by Ajinblambia the Great.
They all come rolling off production’s ramp
To launching pads en route to Heaven’s gate.
15
As abbess of Defdéfa Convent, I,
Sought for the first time now to introduce
Into our canon, lessons from the sky,
An astronomic faith thus to produce,
16
For tales of saints and martyrs weren’t enough
To explicate the universe to people.
We needed to research this cosmic stuff
And not simply relax beneath our steeple,
17
With folded hands, like praying nuns of yore,
Intoning litany on litany,
Or contemplating parables and lore,
While drinking tea of rue or dittany.
18
I, therefore, took unto myself the task
To study aerospace for our sorority,
In case that anyone should haply ask,
Then I’d make answer with authority.
19
In fact, I had in mind a sacred book,
Illuminated like a scripture quaint,
With antiquarian, handwritten look,
All trimmed with ink and gilt and wax and paint,
20
That would contain the algebraic laws,
The axioms and postulates of science.
Correct to every tittle, jot and clause,
Wherein a student could invest reliance.
21
’Twas true I could have done it by computer,
With picture digital and image scanned.
Of this I certainly am no disputer,
But I still hoped to do the book by hand,
22
With all the rigor intellectual
That such an undertaking does deserve,
For elsewise, it were ineffectual.
As curio or gewgaw it might serve.
23
So midnight oil I burnt inside my cell
With reading and digesting learnéd tracts,
With treatises too numerous to tell
Abundant both in figures and in facts.
24
Experiments performing, I learned much
That to the other sisters I could teach.
My intellect was keen; I had the touch.
My vision did the universe o’erreach.
25
Quite often I consulted with the King,
Who put before me scholars of renown,
Professors who great lore to me did bring
Into my scrollphone’s screen as I looked down,
26
Next, I was making diagrams and drafts,
Thin ink on vellum carefully inscribed.
I added engineering drawing to my crafts
And up-to-date technology imbibed.
27
Thereafter unto other sisters, I,
Completing plats and templates, as it were,
Committed all my work before their eye
That with their patient hand they might recur,
28
Elaborating pages of the book.
The uttermost precision I demanded.
The illustrations perfect were to look,
For otherwise they quickly were unhanded,
29
Into receptacles and baskets tossed.
With microscopes and lasers did they etch
That detail and refinement not be lost.
So every speck or pinpoint did they cătch.
30
A thousand pages thus did they engender.
These pages were the flower of Ung’s fine art.
A gift of these I to the King did render
To see how she would like them for her part.
31
Our lady, Ajinblambia, rejoiced
At our inimitable draftsmanship.
Her approbation sovereign she voiced,
Beholding all our skill and craftsmanship.
32
For all the plates and illustrations seemed
As accurate as fine machines could yield,
Yet unmistakably the traces gleamed
With all the skill our handicraft did wield.
33
In Cláscar, the Museum of Mecnita,
Whose cúrator, named Jévendarl, I knew
From days before the operation Sita,
Née Ajinblambia, had carried through
34
At Shróngmoil, was delighted. They displayed
The book for many months within the Flant,
One of sixteen exhibit halls that made
Museum Quadrangle’s preserve and plant.
35
I’d been there sev’ral times some years before,
With nuns from Holy Armalíssa’s fane.
Not yet had I been thrust from out the door
Of Udi’s chamber, when she still did reign,
36
Ere Ajinblambia the dais climbed.
I merely masqueraded as a nun,
With the encouragement the sisters chimed,
For they were parties to the merry fun
37
I then enjoyed, not realizing yet,
That my disguise foretokened what would be,
That willy-nilly I would pay the debt
I owed unto the convent three times three.
38
However that may be, with honor now
Unto Museum Quadrangle my fame
Resounded. And the palace did endow
The nunnery connected with my name.
39
Was this the kind of nunhood foreordained
By Ajinblambia whenas to cloister
Myself within the convent, as she reigned,
She’d shut me as inside a bivalve oyster,
40
Ne’ermore to peep without my shell of nacre?
Was this the destiny that she’d decreed
Confining me unto Defdefa’s acre,
Committing me to don the nunnish weed?
41
Or was I flying higher than ’twas meet
By being fledged ‘neath Jevendarl’s wing
Behind the colonnades that flank the street
Within the Quadrangle where Muses sing?
42
’Midst all the hoopla and hullabaloo
Attending my successes with our book,
Dear Barti to Defdéfa Convent too
Came visiting to talk and take a look.
43
She was one of five Gángawaran maids
I’d met some years before in central Ub,
In Ksháddi, on the eve of all the raids
Revolving round Qazúdistan as hub.
44
These were the sallies of the insurrection
Convulsing the dark continent thereat.
From thence the girls would come in Ung’s direction,
To Éldor, Udi queenly reigned whereat.
45
They’d posed as rural damsels meek and mild,
And I had joined them in their merry games
Of tennis and ballet. Much time we’d whiled,
With giggling and with flirting and fond names.
46
I was as tall as they, when they had youth.
I didn’t know above two meters they,
Like heroines or goddesses in truth,
Would tower upon a fast-approaching day.
47
Next it was learned that they had come from Mli,
Great Ajinblambia’s illustrious kin.
They were the cousins and the sisters she
Would lead unto such dizzy heights herein.
48
Embarrassment o’ertook me in the fact
She now outtopped me by a foot or more,
Especially since in my veil I lacked
That virile presence that I’d had before.
49
Moreover, she was clad in rich brocade,
With diamonds and gold about her throat,
And, chapleted, high majesty displayed.
How greatly did she now exult and gloat!
50
Indeed this Barti was a Queen herself,
’Twas evident as she stood tall and proud
Inside my nunly office, next my shelf,
And spoke with dignity, not over-loud.
51
Intimidated and affrighted, I,
Did genuflect and curtsy, kneel and bow.
I scarce could look great Barti in the eye.
“I wonder how she looks upon me now,”
52
I said unto myself, “I’m so ashamed
To be a nun before this lovely tower.
Is this the girl whom everybody named
Miss Bárti Présed, now endued in power?”
53
Returning from Dilúlabad by train
Ten years before, in Kshaddi I was stuck,
For that a failing engine did detain
The passengers reluctant. What bad luck!
54
The Gángawaran girls, then in school,
Were free on holiday that very morn,
And while mechanics did the train retool,
The five abducted me, and I was borne
55
Unto a distant corner of the hamlet,
And twirled upon a Maypole by the feet,
With Barti, not yet clad in plush and camlet,
As leader of conspiratresses sweet.
56
Thereafter, wearing stilted boots laced tight,
So I could not descend by hopping down,
I balanced first on left foot, then on right,
For the Qazúdi lasses loved a clown,
57
And had me play that role till they got weary,
Applauding me and cheering me with glee,
Till I got flustered and my eyes grew bleary.
They condescended then to set me free.
58
Now Barti was one of the royal seven
Who ruled our planet Nya (Ña) and gave us laws.
In our whole galaxy, in all of Heaven,
Is there another worthy such applause?
59
No lovelier, more gorgeous demoiselle
Exists. Her sandalwood-complexioned cheeks,
Her carmine-saturated lips excel
All habitants of valleys and of peaks,
60
Save those perhaps of Udi, lovely Queen,
And those of Ajinblambia the King.
She is the finest beauty to be seen.
She is a gem in Paradise’s ring.
61
I had anticipated, cloistered, I
Would be immured in silence for an age,
Without a visitor to happen by,
As if I’d dwell within an iron cage.
62
But now attention was directed towards
Myself and my new college full of nuns.
I found myself invited to join boards,
At seminars to be one of the ones.
63
And here was Barti, Regnant Queen of Ung,
For Udi was Queen Consort, royal wife.
The balance of the planet-kingdom hung
On Barti’s fingertip as for dear life.
64
That great ones to my nunnery did look
Withdrew me from the silence I’d forefelt,
And into brilliant, splendid daylight took.
These were the latest cards that fortune dealt.
65
Was I to be the lady eighth in rank
Among Nyatic (Nigh-áttic) gynecocracy,
Alone, ’mongst them whom finery did prank,
Who wore the habit of theocracy,
66
The cashmere gown of black, with skirting simple,
The barbe, the guimpe, the coif of spotless white,
And over all the graceful, flowing wimple,
With neither gold nor silver in thy sight?
67
This Barti also as I now recall
Once levitated me with lunar sleight,
Held me in air so that I might not fall.
Eventually howe’er she let me light.
68
This was ere I’d been habited in black,
When that I still was working on the plows
I was designing for to score the back
Of lands according as our sun allows
69
For cultivation of the yams I thought
Would vie the wheat grown in the Ubbic west
By Ajinblambia. My task was fraught
With difficulties I considered best
70
To query genius Barti all about.
She was a ganglion among the nerves
Of our fair realm, without the slightest doubt.
She knew the graphs and tables, charts and curves
71
Of agriculture and machinery.
So it made sense that I to her went first.
But as an actor in this scenery
Of such telekinesis unrehearsed
72
I was aghast and wist not what to do.
’Twas then she waxed oracular to say
That I’d be a religious for to coo
With other mourning doves some bonny day.
73
I would not study forging and annealing,
Devising disks for plows and tines for harrows.
I’d spend my years with praying and with kneeling,
A bird to fly with wagtails, tits and sparrows.
74
I’d smirked at this prediction. I’d said, “Pooh!”
This was absurd, ridiculous and wild.
I was pragmatic, atheistic too.
Would I wax innocent just like a child?
75
My skepticism notwithstanding, I,
O’erwhelmed by all the currents of the times,
Did vindicate her forecast by and by,
Borne to the convent in these western climes.
76
Now here she was reminding me that she
Had codified the genome of my future,
Deciphering each little ABC,
Each stitch within the microscopic suture
77
Wherewith my destiny was tightly sewn.
Was it her pleasure now to make display.
To seize me to the marrow of my bone
With goddessly enchantment, and to play
78
The queenly role she knew would overwhelm?
Or had she come on business for the state,
As one of the supreme ones of the realm?
Had she an earnest errand at my gate?
79
A novice nun served petits fours and tea,
With palm leaves of puff pastry and éclairs.
I seated Barti opposite to me
In the ornátest of the convent’s chairs.
80
“The King and we five Regnant Queens did watch
When you the nunnery were brightening,
When you a bolt of cloth wove from a swatch
With talent and imagination frightening.
81
We think it will be salutary that,
In order to religionize the Moon,
You fly to Vavlu. Shandra will thereat
Accompany you and help you to commune
82
With Mlians young and old and spread the word.
Perhaps a lunar convent you can found
And with your sash the solar system gird.
Great honor and prestige to you redound!”
83
Queen Shandra was a Vrikshaya herself,
Of that millennial line one of but eight,
Not counting Udi, Oji and myself,
Adopted by the dynasty of late.
84
She was the Vrikshaya who donned the crown,
When Ajinblambia had come to Mli
To bring the monarchy of Oa down
In order me from hostageship to free.
85
Thereafter in Mecnita she’d appear
On two occasions, and it was a source of pride
That she chose me to squire her there and here,
To tour the city strutting at her side.
86
Piljándar Square, where swans and geese oft feed,
Lies forty miles from Eldor, but today,
Our golden comets, at half-sonic speed,
Fly in just minutes thither all the way.
87
Nearby, the Mall of Oracles does stand.
This is a place where fortunes are foresaid.
Queen Shandra had a mystic read her hand
And prompted me to have my tárots read.
88
The cards predicted I would be a nun.
“Impossible, implausible, absurd!”
I’d interjected, “This will not be done;
This never will transpire, mark my word,
89
For never yet has any man worn veil
To pray and sing within a nunnery,
Removed from masculinity’s travail,
A million miles from war and gunnery.”
90
But Shandra, always so ingenuous,
Insisted that my destiny was set.
Relying on this omen tenuous,
She said that I must surely pay the debt.
91
Now I would fly to Vavlu and the smile
Of triumph Shandra would greet me withal.
I’d be embarrassed by my habit’s style,
Intimidated by my mohair shawl.