O Troubadour, old ghost, pick up your bones in Rome,
And rush you underground, the Hell Hound Strays --
Go kiss the Queen, you fool, go towards the Dome!
The maps are meaningless -- a maze, a tome --
For mystics walk to live the Hour of Days!
O Troubadour, old ghost, pick up your bones in Rome!
Who ventures here, O Pilgrim, who must roam?!
Your path will shift with snakes who trace your ways!
Go kiss the Queen, you fool, go towards the Dome!
Beware! -- Lest Gorgon's eye splint you with chrome!
Trip' steel will guard you well if True Shape plays --
O Troubadour, old ghost, pick up your bones in Rome!
And when you see Her glimmer in the gloam --
Her Breast, that Golden Cupula, Milk-Rays --
Go! Kiss the Queen, you fool! -- Go towards the Dome!
Behold the Finger of God: Hush... Shalom.
The Secret Crush of us Whose touch un-clays...
O Troubadour, old ghost, pick up your bones in Rome,
Go kiss the Queen, you fool, go towards the Dome!
Adding your comment:
I always loved this one, too. So many of yours were among my favorites on the site. And elsewhere, besides. 
.. kept all the best lines, so not sure where you've revised (apart from adding my reference to Hagia Sophia in the title). As I said before, it is so renaissance-rich in archetypal images, connotations and allusions - like studying a detailed tapestry, with the mystery and wonder of Matrism.
)
