Blazon

 

 

Once my native land had disappeared,
in seas of dark the storm began to blow,
and like a diamonded sword appeared
cleaving clouds a rift of stars to show.
 
My torment, the remembrances I hone
I vow to keep as only kings are able,
now exile’s blazon I have made my own:
a spangled sword upon a field of sable.

 

Vladimir Nabokov