Baku: Cove of the Caspian

The scattered seeds of history

Lie sheltered in the desert shade

And watered by the crescent moon

Rise up to form a sickle blade

 

Minarets and sacred domes

Caravans and loving homes

Maiden towers, rising blocks

Tireless cranes and bustling docks

 

The past now seems a distant shore

The present rides an oil-slick tide

And as the trade winds bluff and blow

The city chugs and churns with pride

 

Copyright 2008

 

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