On Reading Gerusalemme Liberata

For every hand that grips the sword
With knuckles white,
With poking bones, taut tendons strained
Against the flesh
In frosted fury through to break
Just like their swords
To pierce a shining plated breast
Insignied gold
To muscled folds of olive skin
That burns beneath:

Blood, savage blood like rubies' blaze,
Reddens to catch
The sun with wicked gleams, flows down
In liquid streams,
Purples to oceans, lakes of tears,
While maidens dream
In heavy pommelled haze of lands
Whispering breezes,
Loves that fall like cherry blooms long
As it pleases
Stretching fields of dewy grass, buds
T'unfold, to burst
Unchilled, in untouched winter passes.