The Spanish Dancer

As a lit match first flickers in the hands
    Before it flames, and darts out from all sides
    Bright, twitching tongues, so, ringed by growing bands
    Of spectators--she, quivering, glowing stands
    Poised tensely for the dance--then forward glides

    And suddenly becomes a flaming torch.
    Her bright hair flames, her burning glances scorch,
    And with a daring art at her command
    Her whole robe blazes like a fire-brand
    From which is stretched each naked arm, awake,
    Gleaming and rattling like a frightened snake.

    And then, as though the fire fainter grows,
    She gathers up the flame--again it glows,
    As with proud gesture and imperious air
    She flings it to the earth; and it lies there
    Furiously flickering and crackling still--
    Then haughtily victorious, but with sweet
    Swift smile of greeting, she puts forth her will
    And stamps the flames out with her small firm feet.

        Rainer Maria Rilke
        (tr. Jessie Lamont)