In Ode to the Saraband Ligi writes her verse with both meanings of the word Saraband in mind, i.e., the erotic dance of the 1500s in Mexico and Spain and the stately court dance of the 1600s and 1700s in slow triple time. Ligi queries whether the trees dance the saraband? In Ode to the Saraband, Ligi renders the movement of the trees as dance steps of the saraband and suggests that the eroticism of their dance consists in the see-sawing of their voluptuous limbs illuminated by moonlight. While Ode to the Saraband at times indulges in the burlesque side of life, on the one hand, it also emphasizes the innocence that only the trees themselves can know, on the other. In juxtaposing two opposite sides of human existence in the saraband as a dance form, Ligi inspires her reader to a feeling of wild abandonment that does not foreclose participation in both the allure of the pole dance and the felicitous immaturity of prepubescence. Ligi’s trees in her poem Ode to the Saraband, infused with movement and spontaneity, leave her readers wanting thus to dance their own version of the saraband under the moonlit stars, whether one decidedly more erotic, one clearly more innocent, or a spicy admixture of both the erotic and the innocent.
Aria Ligi 
In Ode to the Saraband Ligi writes her verse with both meanings of the word Saraband in mind, i.e., the erotic dance of the 1500s in Mexico and Spain and the stately court dance of the 1600s and 1700s in slow triple time. Ligi queries whether the trees dance the saraband? In Ode to the Saraband, Ligi renders the movement of the trees as dance steps of the saraband and suggests that the eroticism of their dance consists in the see-sawing of their voluptuous limbs illuminated by moonlight. While Ode to the Saraband at times indulges in the burlesque side of life, on the one hand, it also emphasizes the innocence that only the trees themselves can know, on the other. In juxtaposing two opposite sides of human existence in the saraband as a dance form, Ligi inspires her reader to a feeling of wild abandonment that does not foreclose participation in both the allure of the pole dance and the felicitous immaturity of prepubescence. Ligi’s trees in her poem Ode to the Saraband, infused with movement and spontaneity, leave her readers wanting thus to dance their own version of the saraband under the moonlit stars, whether one decidedly more erotic, one clearly more innocent, or a spicy admixture of both the erotic and the innocent.