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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..313a3dd --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51997 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51997) diff --git a/old/51997-0.txt b/old/51997-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 08e4241..0000000 --- a/old/51997-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2919 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Al Que Quiere!, by William Carlos Williams - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Al Que Quiere! - A Book of Poems - -Author: William Carlos Williams - -Release Date: May 4, 2016 [EBook #51997] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AL QUE QUIERE! *** - - - - -Produced by Meredith Bach and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - - - A BOOK OF POEMS - - AL QUE QUIERE! - - +--------------------------------+ - | _By William Carlos Williams_ | - | | - | THE TEMPERS | - | | - | [London: Elkin Mathews] | - +--------------------------------+ - - - - A BOOK OF POEMS - - AL QUE QUIERE! - - BY - WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS - - [Illustration: colophon] - - BOSTON - THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY - 1917 - - _Copyright, 1917, by_ - THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY - - The Four Seas Press - Boston, Mass., U. S. A. - - Había sido un arbusto desmedrado que prolonga sus filamentos hasta - encontrar el humus necesario en una tierra nueva. Y cómo me nutría! - Me nutría con la beatitud con que las hojas trémulas de clorófila - se extienden al sol; con la beatitud con que una raíz encuentra un - cadáver en descompositión; con la beatitud con que los - convalecientes dan sus pasos vacilantes en las mañanas de - primavera, bañadas de luz; ... - - RAFAEL ARÉVALO MARTÍNEZ - - - - Many of the poems in this book have appeared in magazines, - especially in _Poetry_, _Others_, _The Egoist_, and _The Poetry - Journal_. - - - - -CONTENTS - - -PAGE - -SUB TERRA 13 - -PASTORAL 14 - -CHICKORY AND DAISIES 15 - -METRIC FIGURE 16 - -WOMAN WALKING 17 - -GULLS 18 - -APPEAL 19 - -IN HARBOR 20 - -WINTER SUNSET 21 - -APOLOGY 22 - -PASTORAL 23 - -LOVE SONG 24 - -M. B. 25 - -TRACT 26 - -PROMENADE 29 - -EL HOMBRE 31 - -HERO 31 - -LIBERTAD! IGUALDAD! FRATERNIDAD! 32 - -CANTHARA 33 - -MUJER 33 - -SUMMER SONG 34 - -LOVE SONG 35 - -FOREIGN 35 - -A PRELUDE 36 - -HISTORY 37 - -WINTER QUIET 42 - -DAWN 42 - -GOOD NIGHT 43 - -DANSE RUSSE 44 - -PORTRAIT OF A WOMAN IN BED 45 - -VIRTUE 47 - -CONQUEST 49 - -PORTRAIT OF A YOUNG MAN WITH A BAD HEART 49 - -KELLER GEGEN DOM 50 - -SMELL 52 - -BALLET 52 - -SYMPATHETIC PORTRAIT OF A CHILD 54 - -THE OGRE 55 - -RIPOSTE 56 - -THE OLD MEN 57 - -PASTORAL 57 - -SPRING STRAINS 58 - -TREES 59 - -A PORTRAIT IN GREYS 60 - -INVITATION 61 - -DIVERTIMIENTO 62 - -JANUARY MORNING 62 - -TO A SOLITARY DISCIPLE 67 - -DEDICATION FOR A PLOT OF GROUND 69 - -K. MCB. 70 - -LOVE SONG 71 - -THE WANDERER 75 - - - - - AL QUE QUIERE! - - - - - SUB TERRA - - - Where shall I find you, - you my grotesque fellows - that I seek everywhere - to make up my band? - None, not one - with the earthy tastes I require; - the burrowing pride that rises - subtly as on a bush in May. - - Where are you this day, - you my seven year locusts - with cased wings? - Ah my beauties how I long--! - That harvest - that shall be your advent-- - thrusting up through the grass, - up under the weeds - answering me, - _that_ shall be satisfying! - The light shall leap and snap - that day as with a million lashes! - - Oh, I have you; yes - you are about me in a sense: - playing under the blue pools - that are my windows,-- - but they shut you out still, - there in the half light. - - For the simple truth is - that though I see you clear enough - you are not there! - - It is not that--it is you, - you I want! - - --God, if I could fathom - the guts of shadows! - - You to come with me - poking into negro houses - with their gloom and smell! - In among children - leaping around a dead dog! - Mimicking - onto the lawns of the rich! - You! - to go with me a-tip-toe, - head down under heaven, - nostrils lipping the wind! - - - - - PASTORAL - - - When I was younger - it was plain to me - I must make something of myself. - Older now - I walk back streets - admiring the houses - of the very poor: - roof out of line with sides - the yards cluttered - with old chicken wire, ashes, - furniture gone wrong; - the fences and outhouses - built of barrel-staves - and parts of boxes, all, - if I am fortunate, - smeared a bluish green - that properly weathered - pleases me best - of all colors. - - No one - will believe this - of vast import to the nation. - - - - - CHICKORY AND DAISIES - - - I. - - Lift your flowers - on bitter stems - chickory! - Lift them up - out of the scorched ground! - Bear no foliage - but give yourself - wholly to that! - - Strain under them - you bitter stems - that no beast eats-- - and scorn greyness! - Into the heat with them: - cool! - luxuriant! sky-blue! - The earth cracks and - is shriveled up; - the wind moans piteously; - the sky goes out - if you should fail. - - - II. - - I saw a child with daisies - for weaving into the hair - tear the stems - with her teeth! - - - - - METRIC FIGURE - - There is a bird in the poplars! - It is the sun! - The leaves are little yellow fish - swimming in the river. - The bird skims above them, - day is on his wings. - Phœbus! - It is he that is making - the great gleam among the poplars! - It is his singing - outshines the noise - of leaves clashing in the wind. - - - - - WOMAN WALKING - - - An oblique cloud of purple smoke - across a milky silhouette - of house sides and tiny trees-- - a little village-- - that ends in a saw edge - of mist-covered trees - on a sheet of grey sky. - - To the right, jutting in, - a dark crimson corner of roof. - To the left, half a tree: - - --what a blessing it is - to see you in the street again, - powerful woman, - coming with swinging haunches, - breasts straight forward, - supple shoulders, full arms - and strong, soft hands (I’ve felt them) - carrying the heavy basket. - I might well see you oftener! - And for a different reason - than the fresh eggs - you bring us so regularly. - - Yes, you, young as I, - with boney brows, - kind grey eyes and a kind mouth; - you walking out toward me - from that dead hillside! - I might well see you oftener. - - - - - GULLS - - - My townspeople, beyond in the great world, - are many with whom it were far more - profitable for me to live than here with you. - These whirr about me calling, calling! - and for my own part I answer them, loud as I can, - but they, being free, pass! - I remain! Therefore, listen! - For you will not soon have another singer. - - First I say this: you have seen - the strange birds, have you not, that sometimes - rest upon our river in winter? - - Let them cause you to think well then of the storms - that drive many to shelter. These things - do not happen without reason. - - And the next thing I say is this: - I saw an eagle once circling against the clouds - over one of our principal churches-- - Easter, it was--a beautiful day!--: - three gulls came from above the river - and crossed slowly seaward! - Oh, I know you have your own hymns, I have heard them-- - and because I knew they invoked some great protector - I could not be angry with you, no matter - how much they outraged true music-- - - You see, it is not necessary for us to leap at each other, - and, as I told you, in the end - the gulls moved seaward very quietly. - - - - - APPEAL - - - You who are so mighty, - crimson salamander, - hear me once more. - - I lay among the half burned sticks - at the edge of the fire. - The fiend was creeping in. - I felt the cold tips of fingers-- - - O crimson salamander! - - Give me one little flame, - one! - that I may bind it - protectingly about the wrist - of him that flung me here, - here upon the very center! - - This is my song. - - - - - IN HARBOR - - - Surely there, among the great docks, is peace, my mind; - there with the ships moored in the river. - Go out, timid child, - and snuggle in among the great ships talking so quietly. - Maybe you will even fall asleep near them and be - lifted into one of their laps, and in the morning-- - There is always the morning in which to remember it all! - - Of what are they gossiping? God knows. - And God knows it matters little for we cannot understand them. - Yet it is certainly of the sea, of that there can be no question. - It is a quiet sound. Rest! That’s all I care for now. - The smell of them will put us to sleep presently. - Smell! It is the sea water mingling here into the river-- - at least so it seems--perhaps it is something else--but what matter? - - The sea water! It is quiet and smooth here! - How slowly they move, little by little trying - the hawsers that drop and groan with their agony. - Yes, it is certainly of the high sea they are talking. - - - - - WINTER SUNSET - - - Then I raised my head - and stared out over - the blue February waste - to the blue bank of hill - with stars on it - in strings and festoons-- - but above that: - one opaque - stone of a cloud - just on the hill - left and right - as far as I could see; - and above that - a red streak, then - icy blue sky! - - It was a fearful thing - to come into a man’s heart - at that time: that stone - over the little blinking stars - they’d set there. - - - - - APOLOGY - - - Why do I write today? - - The beauty of - the terrible faces - of our nonentities - stirs me to it: - - colored women - day workers-- - old and experienced-- - returning home at dusk - in cast off clothing - faces like - old Florentine oak. - - Also - - the set pieces - of your faces stir me-- - leading citizens-- - but not - in the same way. - - - - - PASTORAL - - - The little sparrows - hop ingenuously - about the pavement - quarreling - with sharp voices - over those things - that interest them. - But we who are wiser - shut ourselves in - on either hand - and no one knows - whether we think good - or evil. - Meanwhile, - the old man who goes about - gathering dog-lime - walks in the gutter - without looking up - and his tread - is more majestic than - that of the Episcopal minister - approaching the pulpit - of a Sunday. - These things - astonish me beyond words. - - - - - LOVE SONG - - - Daisies are broken - petals are news of the day - stems lift to the grass tops - they catch on shoes - part in the middle - leave root and leaves secure. - - Black branches - carry square leaves - to the wood’s top. - They hold firm - break with a roar - show the white! - - Your moods are slow - the shedding of leaves - and sure - the return in May! - - We walked - in your father’s grove - and saw the great oaks - lying with roots - ripped from the ground. - - - - - M. B. - - - Winter has spent this snow - out of envy, but spring is here! - He sits at the breakfast table - in his yellow hair - and disdains even the sun - walking outside - in spangled slippers: - - He looks out: there is - a glare of lights - before a theater,-- - a sparkling lady - passes quickly to - the seclusion of - her carriage. - Presently - under the dirty, wavy heaven - of a borrowed room he will make - re-inhaled tobacco smoke - his clouds and try them - against the sky’s limits! - - - - - TRACT - - - I will teach you my townspeople - how to perform a funeral-- - for you have it over a troop - of artists-- - unless one should scour the world-- - you have the ground sense necessary. - - See! the hearse leads. - I begin with a design for a hearse. - For Christ’s sake not black-- - nor white either-- and not polished! - Let it be weathered-- like a farm wagon-- - with gilt wheels (this could be - applied fresh at small expense) - or no wheels at all: - a rough dray to drag over the ground. - - Knock the glass out! - My God--glass, my townspeople! - For what purpose? Is it for the dead - to look out or for us to see - how well he is housed or to see - the flowers or the lack of them-- - or what? - To keep the rain and snow from him? - He will have a heavier rain soon: - pebbles and dirt and what not. - Let there be no glass-- - and no upholstery phew! - and no little brass rollers - and small easy wheels on the bottom-- - my townspeople what are you thinking of? - - A rough plain hearse then - with gilt wheels and no top at all. - On this the coffin lies - by its own weight. - - No wreathes please-- - especially no hot house flowers. - Some common memento is better, - something he prized and is known by: - his old clothes-- a few books perhaps-- - God knows what! You realize - how we are about these things - my townspeople-- - something will be found-- anything - even flowers if he had come to that. - - So much for the hearse. - For heaven’s sake though see to the driver! - - Take off the silk hat! In fact - that’s no place at all for him-- - up there unceremoniously - dragging our friend out to his own dignity! - Bring him down-- bring him down! - Low and inconspicuous! I’d not have him ride - on the wagon at all-- damn him-- - the undertaker’s understrapper! - Let him hold the reins - and walk at the side - and inconspicuously too! - - Then briefly as to yourselves: - Walk behind-- as they do in France, - seventh class, or if you ride - Hell take curtains! Go with some show - of inconvenience; sit openly-- - to the weather as to grief. - Or do you think you can shut grief in? - What--from us? We who have perhaps - nothing to lose? Share with us - share with us-- it will be money - in your pockets. - - Go now - I think you are ready. - - - - - PROMENADE - - - I. - - Well, mind, here we have - our little son beside us: - a little diversion before breakfast! - - Come, we’ll walk down the road - till the bacon will be frying. - We might better be idle? - A poem might come of it? - Oh, be useful. Save annoyance - to Flossie and besides--the wind! - It’s cold. It blows our - old pants out! It makes us shiver! - See the heavy trees - shifting their weight before it. - Let us be trees, an old house, - a hill with grass on it! - The baby’s arms are blue. - Come, move! Be quieted! - - - II. - - So. We’ll sit here now - and throw pebbles into - this water-trickle. - - Splash the water up! - (Splash it up, Sonny!) Laugh! - Hit it there deep under the grass. - - See it splash! Ah, mind, - see it splash! It is alive! - Throw pieces of broken leaves - into it. They’ll pass through. - No! Yes--just! - - Away now for the cows! But-- - It’s cold! - It’s getting dark. - It’s going to rain. - No further! - - - III. - - Oh then, a wreath! Let’s - refresh something they - used to write well of. - - Two fern plumes. Strip them - to the mid-rib along one side. - Bind the tips with a grass stem. - Bend and intertwist the stalks - at the back. So! - Ah! now we are crowned! - Now we are a poet! - - Quickly! - A bunch of little flowers - for Flossie--the little ones - only: - a red clover, one - blue heal-all, a sprig of - bone-set, one primrose, - a head of Indian tobacco, this - magenta speck and this - little lavender! - Home now, my mind!-- - Sonny’s arms are icy, I tell you-- - and have breakfast! - - - - - EL HOMBRE - - - It’s a strange courage - you give me ancient star: - - Shine alone in the sunrise - toward which you lend no part! - - - - - HERO - - - Fool, - put your adventures - into those things - which break ships-- - not female flesh. - - Let there pass - over the mind - the waters of - four oceans, the airs - of four skies! - - Return hollow-bellied, - keen-eyed, hard! - A simple scar or two. - - Little girls will come - bringing you - roses for your button-hole. - - - - - LIBERTAD! IGUALDAD! FRATERNIDAD! - - - You sullen pig of a man - you force me into the mud - with your stinking ash-cart! - - Brother! - --if we were rich - we’d stick our chests out - and hold our heads high! - - It is dreams that have destroyed us. - - There is no more pride - in horses or in rein holding. - We sit hunched together brooding - our fate. - - Well-- - all things turn bitter in the end - whether you choose the right or - the left way - and-- - dreams are not a bad thing. - - - - - CANTHARA - - - The old black-man showed me - how he had been shocked - in his youth - by six women, dancing - a set-dance, stark naked below - the skirts raised round - their breasts: - bellies flung forward - knees flying! - --while - his gestures, against the - tiled wall of the dingy bath-room, - swished with ecstasy to - the familiar music of - his old emotion. - - - - - MUJER - - - Oh, black Persian cat! - Was not your life - already cursed with offspring? - - We took you for rest to that old - Yankee farm,--so lonely - and with so many field mice - in the long grass-- - and you return to us - in this condition--! - - Oh, black Persian cat. - - - - - SUMMER SONG - - - Wanderer moon - smiling a - faintly ironical smile - at this - brilliant, dew-moistened - summer morning,-- - a detached - sleepily indifferent - smile, a - wanderer’s smile,-- - if I should - buy a shirt - your color and - put on a necktie - sky blue - where would they carry me? - - - - - LOVE SONG - - - Sweep the house clean, - hang fresh curtains - in the windows - put on a new dress - and come with me! - The elm is scattering - its little loaves - of sweet smells - from a white sky! - - Who shall hear of us - in the time to come? - Let him say there was - a burst of fragrance - from black branches. - - - - - FOREIGN - - - Artsybashev is a Russian. - I am an American. - Let us wonder, my townspeople, - if Artsybashev tends his own fires - as I do, gets himself cursed - for the baby’s failure to thrive, - loosens windows for the woman - who cleans his parlor-- - or has he neat servants - and a quiet library, an - intellectual wife perhaps and - no children,--an apartment - somewhere in a back street or - lives alone or with his mother - or sister-- - - I wonder, my townspeople, - if Artsybashev looks upon - himself the more concernedly - or succeeds any better than I - in laying the world. - - I wonder which is the bigger - fool in his own mind. - - These are shining topics - my townspeople but-- - hardly of great moment. - - - - - A PRELUDE - - - I know only the bare rocks of today. - In these lies my brown sea-weed,-- - green quartz veins bent through the wet shale; - in these lie my pools left by the tide-- - quiet, forgetting waves; - on these stiffen white star fish; - on these I slip bare footed! - - Whispers of the fishy air touch my body; - “Sisters,” I say to them. - - - - - HISTORY - - - I. - - A wind might blow a lotus petal - over the pyramids--but not this wind. - - Summer is a dried leaf. - - Leaves stir this way then that - on the baked asphalt, the wheels - of motor cars rush over them,-- - gas smells mingle with leaf smells. - - Oh, Sunday, day of worship!!! - - The steps to the museum are high. - Worshippers pass in and out. - Nobody comes here today. - I come here to mingle faiance dug - from the tomb, turquoise colored - necklaces and belched wind from the - stomach; delicately veined basins - of agate, cracked and discolored and - the stink of stale urine! - - Enter! Elbow in at the door. - Men? Women? - Simpering, clay fetish-faces counting - through the turnstile. - Ah! - - - II. - - This sarcophagus contained the body - of Uresh-Nai, priestess to the goddess Mut, - Mother of All-- - - Run your finger against this edge! - --here went the chisel!--and think - of an arrogance endured six thousand years - without a flaw! - - But love is an oil to embalm the body. - Love is a packet of spices, a strong - smelling liquid to be squirted into - the thigh. No? - Love rubbed on a bald head will make - hair--and after? Love is - a lice comber! - Gnats on dung! - - “The chisel is in your hand, the block - is before you, cut as I shall dictate: - this is the coffin of Uresh-Nai, - priestess to the sky goddess,--built - to endure forever! - Carve the inside - with the image of my death in - little lines of figures three fingers high. - Put a lid on it cut with Mut bending over - the earth, for my headpiece, and in the year - to be chosen I will rouse, the lid - shall be lifted and I will walk about - the temple where they have rested me - and eat the air of the place: - - Ah--these walls are high! This - is in keeping.” - - - III. - - The priestess has passed into her tomb. - The stone has taken up her spirit! - Granite over flesh: who will deny - its advantages? - - Your death?--water - spilled upon the ground-- - though water will mount again into rose-leaves-- - but you?--would hold life still, - even as a memory, when it is over. - Benevolence is rare. - - Climb about this sarcophagus, read - what is writ for you in these figures, - hard as the granite that has held them - with so soft a hand the while - your own flesh has been fifty times - through the guts of oxen,--read! - “The rose-tree will have its donor - even though he give stingily. - The gift of some endures - ten years, the gift of some twenty - and the gift of some for the time a - great house rots and is torn down. - Some give for a thousand years to men of - one face, some for a thousand - to all men and some few to all men - while granite holds an edge against - the weather. - Judge then of love!” - - - IV. - - “My flesh is turned to stone. I - have endured my summer. The flurry - of falling petals is ended. Lay - the finger upon this granite. I was - well desired and fully caressed - by many lovers but my flesh - withered swiftly and my heart was - never satisfied. Lay your hands - upon the granite as a lover lays his - hand upon the thigh and upon the - round breasts of her who is - beside him, for now I will not wither, - now I have thrown off secrecy, now - I have walked naked into the street, - now I have scattered my heavy beauty - in the open market. - Here I am with head high and a - burning heart eagerly awaiting - your caresses, whoever it may be, - for granite is not harder than - my love is open, runs loose among you! - - I arrogant against death! I - who have endured! I worn against - the years!” - - - V. - - But it is five o’clock. Come! - Life is good--enjoy it! - A walk in the park while the day lasts. - I will go with you. Look! this - northern scenery is not the Nile, but-- - these benches--the yellow and purple dusk-- - the moon there--these tired people-- - the lights on the water! - - Are not these Jews and--Ethiopians? - The world is young, surely! Young - and colored like--a girl that has come upon - a lover! Will that do? - - - - - WINTER QUIET - - - Limb to limb, mouth to mouth - with the bleached grass - silver mist lies upon the back yards - among the outhouses. - The dwarf trees - pirouette awkwardly to it-- - whirling round on one toe; - the big tree smiles and glances upward! - Tense with suppressed excitement - the fences watch where the ground - has humped an aching shoulder for the ecstasy. - - - - - DAWN - - - Ecstatic bird songs pound - the hollow vastness of the sky - with metallic clinkings-- - beating color up into it - at a far edge,--beating it, beating it - with rising, triumphant ardor,-- - stirring it into warmth, - quickening in it a spreading change,-- - bursting wildly against it as - dividing the horizon, a heavy sun - lifts himself--is lifted-- - bit by bit above the edge - of things,--runs free at last - out into the open--! lumbering - glorified in full release upward--songs cease. - - - - - GOOD NIGHT - - - In brilliant gas light - I turn the kitchen spigot - and watch the water plash - into the clean white sink. - On the grooved drain-board - to one side is - a glass filled with parsley-- - crisped green. - Waiting - for the water to freshen-- - I glance at the spotless floor--: - a pair of rubber sandals - lie side by side - under the wall-table, - all is in order for the night. - - Waiting, with a glass in my hand - --three girls in crimson satin - pass close before me on - the murmurous background of - the crowded opera-- - it is - memory playing the clown-- - three vague, meaningless girls - full of smells and - the rustling sound of - cloth rubbing on cloth and - little slippers on carpet-- - high-school French - spoken in a loud voice! - - Parsley in a glass, - still and shining, - brings me back. I take my drink - and yawn deliciously. - I am ready for bed. - - - - - DANSE RUSSE - - - If I when my wife is sleeping - and the baby and Kathleen - are sleeping - and the sun is a flame-white disc - in silken mists - above shining trees,-- - if I in my north room - danse naked, grotesquely - before my mirror - waving my shirt round my head - and singing softly to myself: - “I am lonely, lonely. - I was born to be lonely. - I am best so!” - If I admire my arms, my face - my shoulders, flanks, buttocks - against the yellow drawn shades,-- - - who shall say I am not - the happy genius of my household? - - - - - PORTRAIT OF A WOMAN IN BED - - - There’s my things - drying in the corner: - that blue skirt - joined to the grey shirt-- - - I’m sick of trouble! - Lift the covers - if you want me - and you’ll see - the rest of my clothes-- - though it would be cold - lying with nothing on! - - I won’t work - and I’ve got no cash. - What are you going to do - about it? - - --and no jewelry - (the crazy fools) - - But I’ve my two eyes - and a smooth face - and here’s this! look! - it’s high! - There’s brains and blood - in there-- - my name’s Robitza! - Corsets - can go to the devil-- - and drawers along with them! - What do I care! - - My two boys? - --they’re keen! - Let the rich lady - care for them-- - they’ll beat the school - or - let them go to the gutter-- - that ends trouble. - - This house is empty - isn’t it? - Then it’s mine - because I need it. - - Oh, I won’t starve - while there’s the Bible - to make them feed me. - - Try to help me - if you want trouble - or leave me alone-- - that ends trouble. - - The county physician - is a damned fool - and you - can go to hell! - - You could have closed the door - when you came in; - do it when you go out. - I’m tired. - - - - - VIRTUE - - - Now? Why-- - whirl-pools of - orange and purple flame - feather twists of chrome - on a green ground - funneling down upon - the steaming phallus-head - of the mad sun himself-- - blackened crimson! - Now? - - Why-- - it is the smile of her - the smell of her - the vulgar inviting mouth of her! - It is--Oh, nothing new - nothing that lasts - an eternity, nothing worth - putting out to interest, - nothing-- - but the fixing of an eye - concretely upon emptiness! - - Come! here are-- - cross-eyed men, a boy - with a patch, men walking - in their shirts, men in hats - dark men, a pale man - with little black moustaches - and a dirty white coat, - fat men with pudgy faces, - thin faces, crooked faces - slit eyes, grey eyes, black eyes - old men with dirty beards, - men in vests with - gold watch chains. Come! - - - - - CONQUEST - -[_Dedicated to F. W._] - - - Hard, chilly colors: - straw grey, frost grey - the grey of frozen ground: - and you, O sun, - close above the horizon! - It is I holds you-- - half against the sky - half against a black tree trunk - icily resplendent! - - Lie there, blue city, mine at last-- - rimming the banked blue grey - and rise, indescribable smoky yellow - into the overpowering white! - - - - - PORTRAIT OF A YOUNG MAN WITH A BAD HEART - - - Have I seen her? - Only through the window - across the street. - - If I go meeting her - on the corner - some damned fool - will go blabbing it - to the old man and - she’ll get hell. - He’s a queer old bastard! - Every time he sees me - you’d think - I wanted to kill him. - But I figure it out - it’s best to let things - stay as they are-- - for a while at least. - - It’s hard - giving up the thing - you want most - in the world, but with this - damned pump of mine - liable to give out ... - - She’s a good kid - and I’d hate to hurt her - but if she can get over it-- - - it’d be the best thing. - - - - - KELLER GEGEN DOM - - - Witness, would you-- - one more young man - in the evening of his love - hurrying to confession: - steps down a gutter - crosses a street - goes in at a doorway - opens for you-- - like some great flower-- - a room filled with lamplight; - or whirls himself - obediently to - the curl of a hill - some wind-dancing afternoon; - lies for you in - the futile darkness of - a wall, sets stars dancing - to the crack of a leaf-- - - and--leaning his head away-- - snuffs (secretly) - the bitter powder from - his thumb’s hollow, - takes your blessing and - goes home to bed? - - Witness instead - whether you like it or not - a dark vinegar smelling place - from which trickles - the chuckle of - beginning laughter - - It strikes midnight. - - - - - SMELL! - - - Oh strong ridged and deeply hollowed - nose of mine! what will you not be smelling? - What tactless asses we are, you and I, boney nose, - always indiscriminate, always unashamed, - and now it is the souring flowers of the bedraggled - poplars: a festering pulp on the wet earth - beneath them. With what deep thirst - we quicken our desires - to that rank odor of a passing spring-time! - Can you not be decent? Can you not reserve your ardors - for something less unlovely? What girl will care - for us, do you think, if we continue in these ways? - Must you taste everything? Must you know everything? - Must you have a part in everything? - - - - - BALLET - - - Are you not weary, - great gold cross - shining in the wind-- - are you not weary - of seeing the stars - turning over you - and the sun - going to his rest - and you frozen with - a great lie - that leaves you - rigid as a knight - on a marble coffin? - - --and you, - higher, still, - robin, - untwisting a song - from the bare - top-twigs, - are you not - weary of labor, - even the labor of - a song? - - Come down--join me - for I am lonely. - - First it will be - a quiet pace - to ease our stiffness - but as the west yellows - you will be ready! - - Here in the middle - of the roadway - we will fling - ourselves round - with dust lilies - till we are bound in - their twining stems! - We will tear - their flowers - with arms flashing! - - And when - the astonished stars - push aside - their curtains - they will see us - fall exhausted where - wheels and - the pounding feet - of horses - will crush forth - our laughter. - - - - - SYMPATHETIC PORTRAIT OF A CHILD - - - The murderer’s little daughter - who is barely ten years old - jerks her shoulders - right and left - so as to catch a glimpse of me - without turning round. - - Her skinny little arms - wrap themselves - this way then that - reversely about her body! - Nervously - she crushes her straw hat - about her eyes - and tilts her head - to deepen the shadow-- - smiling excitedly! - - As best as she can - she hides herself - in the full sunlight - her cordy legs writhing - beneath the little flowered dress - that leaves them bare - from mid-thigh to ankle-- - - Why has she chosen me - for the knife - that darts along her smile? - - - - - THE OGRE - - - Sweet child, - little girl with well shaped legs - you cannot touch the thoughts - I put over and under and around you. - - This is fortunate for they would - burn you to an ash otherwise. - Your petals would be quite curled up. - - This is all beyond you--no doubt, - yet you do feel the brushings - of the fine needles; - the tentative lines of your whole body - prove it to me; - so does your fear of me, - your shyness; - likewise the toy baby cart - that you are pushing-- - and besides, mother has begun - to dress your hair in a knot. - These are my excuses. - - - - - RIPOSTE - - - Love is like water or the air - my townspeople; - it cleanses, and dissipates evil gases. - It is like poetry too - and for the same reasons. - - Love is so precious - my townspeople - that if I were you I would - have it under lock and key-- - like the air or the Atlantic or - like poetry! - - - - - THE OLD MEN - - - Old men who have studied - every leg show - in the city - Old men cut from touch - by the perfumed music-- - polished or fleeced skulls - that stand before - the whole theater - in silent attitudes - of attention,-- - old men who have taken precedence - over young men - and even over dark-faced - husbands whose minds - are a street with arc-lights. - Solitary old men for whom - we find no excuses-- - I bow my head in shame - for those who malign you. - Old men - the peaceful beer of impotence - be yours! - - - - - PASTORAL - - - If I say I have heard voices - who will believe me? - - “None has dipped his hand - in the black waters of the sky - nor picked the yellow lilies - that sway on their clear stems - and no tree has waited - long enough nor still enough - to touch fingers with the moon.” - - I looked and there were little frogs - with puffed out throats, - singing in the slime. - - - - - SPRING STRAINS - - - In a tissue-thin monotone of blue-grey buds - crowded erect with desire against - the sky-- - tense blue-grey twigs - slenderly anchoring them down, drawing - them in-- - two blue-grey birds chasing - a third struggle in circles, angles, - swift convergings to a point that bursts - instantly! - - Vibrant bowing limbs - pull downward, sucking in the sky - that bulges from behind, plastering itself - against them in packed rifts, rock blue - and dirty orange! - But-- - - (Hold hard, rigid jointed trees!) - the blinding and red-edged sun-blur-- - creeping energy, concentrated - counterforce--welds sky, buds, trees, - rivets them in one puckering hold! - Sticks through! Pulls the whole - counter-pulling mass upward, to the right, - locks even the opaque, not yet defined - ground in a terrific drag that is - loosening the very tap-roots! - - On a tissue-thin monotone of blue-grey buds - two blue-grey birds, chasing a third, - at full cry! Now they are - flung outward and up--disappearing suddenly! - - - - - TREES - - - Crooked, black tree - on your little grey-black hillock, - ridiculously raised one step toward - the infinite summits of the night: - even you the few grey stars - draw upward into a vague melody - of harsh threads. - - Bent as you are from straining - against the bitter horizontals of - a north wind,--there below you - how easily the long yellow notes - of poplars flow upward in a descending - scale, each note secure in its own - posture--singularly woven. - - All voices are blent willingly - against the heaving contra-bass - of the dark but you alone - warp yourself passionately to one side - in your eagerness. - - - - - A PORTRAIT IN GREYS - - - Will it never be possible - to separate you from your greyness? - Must you be always sinking backward - into your grey-brown landscapes--and trees - always in the distance, always against - a grey sky? - Must I be always - moving counter to you? Is there no place - where we can be at peace together - and the motion of our drawing apart - be altogether taken up? - I see myself - standing upon your shoulders touching - a grey, broken sky-- - but you, weighted down with me, - yet gripping my ankles,--move - laboriously on, - where it is level and undisturbed by colors. - - - - - INVITATION - - - You who had the sense - to choose me such a mother, - you who had the indifference - to create me, - you who went to some pains - to leave hands off me - in the formative stages,-- - (I thank you most for that - perhaps) - but you who - with an iron head, first, - fiercest and with strongest love - brutalized me into strength, - old dew-lap,-- - I have reached the stage - where I am teaching myself - to laugh. - Come on, - take a walk with me. - - - - - DIVERTIMIENTO - - - Miserable little woman - in a brown coat-- - quit whining! - My hand for you! - We’ll skip down the tin cornices - of Main Street - flicking the dull roof-line - with our toe-tips! - Hop clear of the bank! A - pin-wheel round the white flag-pole. - - And I’ll sing you the while - a thing to split your sides - about Johann Sebastian Bach, - the father of music, who had - three wives and twenty-two children. - - - - - JANUARY MORNING - - SUITE - - - I. - - I have discovered that most of - the beauties of travel are due to - the strange hours we keep to see them: - - the domes of the Church of - the Paulist Fathers in Weehawken - against a smoky dawn--the heart stirred-- - are beautiful as Saint Peters - approached after years of anticipation. - - - II. - - Though the operation was postponed - I saw the tall probationers - in their tan uniforms - hurrying to breakfast! - - - III. - - --and from basement entrys - neatly coiffed, middle aged gentlemen - with orderly moustaches and - well brushed coats - - - IV. - - --and the sun, dipping into the avenues - streaking the tops of - the irregular red houselets, - and - the gay shadows dropping and dropping. - - - V. - - --and a young horse with a green bed-quilt - on his withers shaking his head: - bared teeth and nozzle high in the air! - - - VI. - - --and a semicircle of dirt colored men - about a fire bursting from an old - ash can, - - - VII. - - --and the worn, - blue car rails (like the sky!) - gleaming among the cobbles! - - - VIII. - - --and the rickety ferry-boat “Arden”! - What an object to be called “Arden” - among the great piers,--on the - ever new river! - “Put me a Touchstone - at the wheel, white gulls, and we’ll - follow the ghost of the Half Moon - to the North West Passage--and through! - (at Albany!) for all that!” - - - IX. - - Exquisite brown waves--long - circlets of silver moving over you! - enough with crumbling ice-crusts among you! - The sky has come down to you, - lighter than tiny bubbles, face to - face with you! - His spirit is - a white gull with delicate pink feet - and a snowy breast for you to - hold to your lips delicately! - - - X. - - The young doctor is dancing with happiness - in the sparkling wind, alone - at the prow of the ferry! He notices - the curdy barnacles and broken ice crusts - left at the slip’s base by the low tide - and thinks of summer and green - shell crusted ledges among - the emerald eel-grass! - - - XI. - - Who knows the Palisades as I do - knows the river breaks east from them - above the city--but they continue south - --under the sky--to bear a crest of - little peering houses that brighten - with dawn behind the moody - water-loving giants of Manhattan. - - - XII. - - Long yellow rushes bending - above the white snow patches; - purple and gold ribbon - of the distant wood: - what an angle - you make with each other as - you lie there in contemplation. - - - XIII. - - Work hard all your young days - and they’ll find you too, some morning - staring up under - your chiffonier at its warped - bass-wood bottom and your soul-- - out! - --among the little sparrows - behind the shutter. - - - XIV. - - --and the flapping flags are at - half mast for the dead admiral. - - - XV. - - All this-- - was for you, old woman. - I wanted to write a poem - that you would understand. - For what good is it to me - if you can’t understand it? - But you got to try hard-- - But-- - Well, you know how - the young girls run giggling - on Park Avenue after dark - when they ought to be home in bed? - Well, - that’s the way it is with me somehow. - - - - - TO A SOLITARY DISCIPLE - - - Rather notice, mon cher, - that the moon is - tilted above - the point of the steeple - than that its color - is shell-pink. - - Rather observe - that it is early morning - than that the sky - is smooth - as a turquoise. - - Rather grasp - how the dark - converging lines - of the steeple - meet at the pinnacle-- - perceive how - its little ornament - tries to stop them-- - - See how it fails! - See how the converging lines - of the hexagonal spire - escape upward-- - receding, dividing! - --sepals - that guard and contain - the flower! - - Observe - how motionless - the eaten moon - lies in the protecting lines. - - It is true: - in the light colors - of morning - brown-stone and slate - shine orange and dark blue. - - But observe - the oppressive weight - of the squat edifice! - Observe - the jasmine lightness - of the moon. - - - - - DEDICATION FOR A PLOT OF GROUND - - - This plot of ground - facing the waters of this inlet - is dedicated to the living presence of - Emily Richardson Wellcome - who was born in England; married; - lost her husband and with - her five year old son - sailed for New York in a two-master; - was driven to the Azores; - ran adrift on Fire Island shoal, - met her second husband - in a Brooklyn boarding house, - went with him to Puerto Rico - bore three more children, lost - her second husband, lived hard - for eight years in St. Thomas, - Puerto Rico, San Domingo, followed - the oldest son to New York, - lost her daughter, lost her “baby,” - seized the two boys of - the oldest son by the second marriage - mothered them--they being - motherless--fought for them - against the other grandmother - and the aunts, brought them here - summer after summer, defended - herself here against thieves, - storms, sun, fire, - against flies, against girls - that came smelling about, against - drought, against weeds, storm-tides, - neighbors, weasles that stole her chickens, - against the weakness of her own hands, - against the growing strength of - the boys, against wind, against - the stones, against trespassers, - against rents, against her own mind. - - She grubbed this earth with her own hands, - domineered over this grass plot, - blackguarded her oldest son - into buying it, lived here fifteen years, - attained a final loneliness and-- - - If you can bring nothing to this place - but your carcass, keep out. - - - - - K. McB. - - - You exquisite chunk of mud - Kathleen--just like - any other chunk of mud! - --especially in April! - Curl up round their shoes - when they try to step on you, - spoil the polish! - I shall laugh till I am sick - at their amazement. - Do they expect the ground to be - always solid? - Give them the slip then; - let them sit in you; - soil their pants; - teach them a dignity - that is dignity, the dignity - of mud! - - - Lie basking in - the sun then--fast asleep! - Even become dust on occasion. - - - - - LOVE SONG - - - I lie here thinking of you:-- - - the stain of love - is upon the world! - Yellow, yellow, yellow - it eats into the leaves, - smears with saffron - the horned branches that lean - heavily - against a smooth purple sky! - There is no light - only a honey-thick stain - that drips from leaf to leaf - and limb to limb - spoiling the colors - of the whole world-- - - you far off there under - the wine-red selvage of the west! - - - - - THE WANDERER - - _A Rococo Study_ - - - ADVENT - - Even in the time when as yet - I had no certain knowledge of her - She sprang from the nest, a young crow, - Whose first flight circled the forest. - I know now how then she showed me - Her mind, reaching out to the horizon, - She close above the tree tops. - I saw her eyes straining at the new distance - And as the woods fell from her flying - Likewise they fell from me as I followed-- - So that I strongly guessed all that I must put from me - To come through ready for the high courses. - - But one day, crossing the ferry - With the great towers of Manhattan before me, - Out at the prow with the sea wind blowing, - I had been wearying many questions - Which she had put on to try me: - How shall I be a mirror to this modernity? - When lo! in a rush, dragging - A blunt boat on the yielding river-- - Suddenly I saw her! And she waved me - From the white wet in midst of her playing! - She cried me, “Haia! Here I am, son! - See how strong my little finger is! - Can I not swim well? - I can fly too!” And with that a great sea-gull - Went to the left, vanishing with a wild cry-- - But in my mind all the persons of godhead - Followed after. - - - CLARITY - - “Come!” cried my mind and by her might - That was upon us we flew above the river - Seeking her, grey gulls among the white-- - In the air speaking as she had willed it: - “I am given,” cried I, “now I know it! - I know now all my time is forespent! - For me one face is all the world! - For I have seen her at last, this day, - In whom age in age is united-- - Indifferent, out of sequence, marvelously! - Saving alone that one sequence - Which is the beauty of all the world, for surely - Either there in the rolling smoke spheres below us - Or here with us in the air intercircling, - Certainly somewhere here about us - I know she is revealing these things!” - - And as gulls we flew and with soft cries - We seemed to speak, flying, “It is she - The mighty, recreating the whole world, - This the first day of wonders! - She is attiring herself before me-- - Taking shape before me for worship, - A red leaf that falls upon a stone! - It is she of whom I told you, old - Forgiveless, unreconcilable; - That high wanderer of by-ways - Walking imperious in beggary! - At her throat is loose gold, a single chain - From among many, on her bent fingers - Are rings from which the stones are fallen, - Her wrists wear a diminished state, her ankles - Are bare! Toward the river! Is it she there?” - And we swerved clamorously downward-- - “I will take my peace in her henceforth!” - - - BROADWAY - - It was then she struck--from behind, - In mid air, as with the edge of a great wing! - And instantly down the mists of my eyes - There came crowds walking--- men as visions - With expressionless, animate faces; - Empty men with shell-thin bodies - Jostling close above the gutter, - Hasting--nowhere! And then for the first time - I really saw her, really scented the sweat - Of her presence and--fell back sickened! - Ominous, old, painted-- - With bright lips, and lewd Jew’s eyes - Her might strapped in by a corset - To give her age youth, perfect - In her will to be young she had covered - The godhead to go beside me. - Silent, her voice entered at my eyes - And my astonished thought followed her easily: - “Well, do their eyes shine, do their clothes fit? - These _live_ I tell you! Old men with red cheeks, - Young men in gay suits! See them! - Dogged, quivering, impassive-- - Well--are these the ones you envied?” - At which I answered her, “Marvelous old queen, - Grant me power to catch something of this day’s - Air and sun into your service! - That these toilers after peace and after pleasure - May turn to you, worshippers at all hours!” - But she sniffed upon the words warily-- - Yet I persisted, watching for an answer: - “To you, horrible old woman, - Who know all fires out of the bodies - Of all men that walk with lust at heart! - To you, O mighty, crafty prowler - After the youth of all cities, drunk - With the sight of thy archness! All the youth - That come to you, you having the knowledge - Rather than to those uninitiate-- - To you, marvelous old queen, give me always - A new marriage--” - But she laughed loudly-- - “A new grip upon those garments that brushed me - In days gone by on beach, lawn, and in forest! - May I be lifted still, up and out of terror, - Up from before the death living around me-- - Tom up continually and carried - Whatever way the head of your whim is, - A burr upon those streaming tatters--” - But the night had fallen, she stilled me - And led me away. - - - PATERSON--THE STRIKE - - At the first peep of dawn she roused me! - I rose trembling at the change which the night saw! - For there, wretchedly brooding in a corner - From which her old eyes glittered fiercely-- - “Go!” she said, and I hurried shivering - Out into the deserted streets of Paterson. - - That night she came again, hovering - In rags within the filmy ceiling-- - “Great Queen, bless me with thy tatters!” - “You are blest, go on!” - “Hot for savagery, - Sucking the air! I went into the city, - Out again, baffled onto the mountain! - Back into the city! - Nowhere - The subtle! Everywhere the electric!” - - “A short bread-line before a hitherto empty tea shop: - No questions--all stood patiently, - Dominated by one idea: something - That carried them as they are always wanting to be carried, - ‘But what is it,’ I asked those nearest me, - ‘This thing heretofore unobtainable - That they seem so clever to have put on now!’ - - “Why since I have failed them can it be anything but their own brood? - Can it be anything but brutality? - On that at least they’re united! That at least - Is their bean soup, their calm bread and a few luxuries! - - “But in me, more sensitive, marvelous old queen - It sank deep into the blood, that I rose upon - The tense air enjoying the dusty fight! - Heavy drink were the low, sloping foreheads - The flat skulls with the unkempt black or blond hair, - The ugly legs of the young girls, pistons - Too powerful for delicacy! - The women’s wrists, the men’s arms, red - Used to heat and cold, to toss quartered beeves - And barrels, and milk-cans, and crates of fruit! - - “Faces all knotted up like burls on oaks, - Grasping, fox-snouted, thick-lipped, - Sagging breasts and protruding stomachs, - Rasping voices, filthy habits with the hands. - - “Nowhere you! Everywhere the electric! - - “Ugly, venemous, gigantic! - Tossing me as a great father his helpless - Infant till it shriek with ecstasy - And its eyes roll and its tongue hangs out!-- - - “I am at peace again, old queen, I listen clearer now.” - - - ABROAD - - Never, even in a dream, - Have I winged so high nor so well - As with her, she leading me by the hand, - That first day on the Jersey mountains! - And never shall I forget - The trembling interest with which I heard - Her voice in a low thunder: - “You are safe here. Look child, look open-mouth! - The patch of road between the steep bramble banks; - The tree in the wind, the white house there, the sky! - Speak to men of these, concerning me! - For never while you permit them to ignore me - In these shall the full of my freed voice - Come grappling the ear with intent! - Never while the air’s clear coolness - Is seized to be a coat for pettiness; - Never while richness of greenery - Stands a shield for prurient minds; - Never, permitting these things unchallenged - Shall my voice of leaves and varicolored bark come free through!” - At which, knowing her solitude, - I shouted over the country below me: - “Waken! my people, to the boughs green - With ripening fruit within you! - Waken to the myriad cinquefoil - In the waving grass of your minds! - Waken to the silent phoebe nest - Under the eaves of your spirit!” - - But she, stooping nearer the shifting hills - Spoke again. “Look there! See them! - There in the oat field with the horses, - See them there! bowed by their passions - Crushed down, that had been raised as a roof beam! - The weight of the sky is upon them - Under which all roof beams crumble. - There is none but the single roof beam: - There is no love bears against the great firefly! - At this I looked up at the sun - Then shouted again with all the might I had. - But my voice was a seed in the wind. - Then she, the old one, laughing - Seized me and whirling about bore back - To the city, upward, still laughing - Until the great towers stood above the marshland - Wheeling beneath: the little creeks, the mallows - That I picked as a boy, the Hackensack - So quiet that seemed so broad formerly: - The crawling trains, the cedar swamp on the one side-- - All so old, so familiar--so new now - To my marvelling eyes as we passed - Invisible. - - - SOOTHSAY - - Eight days went by, eight days - Comforted by no nights, until finally: - “Would you behold yourself old, beloved?” - I was pierced, yet I consented gladly - For I knew it could not be otherwise. - And she--“Behold yourself old! - Sustained in strength, wielding might in gript surges! - Not bodying the sun in weak leaps - But holding way over rockish men - With fern free fingers on their little crags, - Their hollows, the new Atlas, to bear them - For pride and for mockery! Behold - Yourself old! winding with slow might-- - A vine among oaks--to the thin tops: - Leaving the leafless leaved, - Bearing purple clusters! Behold - Yourself old! birds are behind you. - You are the wind coming that stills birds, - Shakes the leaves in booming polyphony-- - Slow, winning high way amid the knocking - Of boughs, evenly crescendo, - The din and bellow of the male wind! - Leap then from forest into foam! - Lash about from low into high flames - Tipping sound, the female chorus-- - Linking all lions, all twitterings - To make them nothing! Behold yourself old!” - As I made to answer she continued, - A little wistfully yet in a voice clear cut: - “Good is my over lip and evil - My underlip to you henceforth: - For I have taken your soul between my two hands - And this shall be as it is spoken.” - - - ST. JAMES’ GROVE - - And so it came to that last day - When, she leading by the hand, we went out - Early in the morning, I heavy of heart - For I knew the novitiate was ended - The ecstasy was over, the life begun. - - In my woolen shirt and the pale blue necktie - My grandmother gave me, there I went - With the old queen right past the houses - Of my friends down the hill to the river - As on any usual day, any errand. - Alone, walking under trees, - I went with her, she with me in her wild hair, - By Santiago Grove and presently - She bent forward and knelt by the river, - The Passaic, that filthy river. - And there dabbling her mad hands, - She called me close beside her. - Raising the water then in the cupped palm - She bathed our brows wailing and laughing: - “River, we are old, you and I, - We are old and by bad luck, beggars. - Lo, the filth in our hair, our bodies stink! - Old friend, here I have brought you - The young soul you long asked of me. - Stand forth, river, and give me - The old friend of my revels! - Give me the well-worn spirit, - For here I have made a room for it, - And I will return to you forthwith - The youth you have long asked of me: - Stand forth, river, and give me - The old friend of my revels!” - - And the filthy Passaic consented! - - Then she, leaping up with a fierce cry: - “Enter, youth, into this bulk! - Enter, river, into this young man!” - Then the river began to enter my heart, - Eddying back cool and limpid - Into the crystal beginning of its days. - But with the rebound it leaped forward: - Muddy, then black and shrunken - Till I felt the utter depth of its rottenness - The vile breadth of its degradation - And dropped down knowing this was me now. - But she lifted me and the water took a new tide - Again into the older experiences, - And so, backward and forward, - It tortured itself within me - Until time had been washed finally under, - And the river had found its level - And its last motion had ceased - And I knew all--it became me. - And I knew this for double certain - For there, whitely, I saw myself - Being borne off under the water! - I could have shouted out in my agony - At the sight of myself departing - Forever--but I bit back my despair - For she had averted her eyes - By which I knew well what she was thinking-- - And so the last of me was taken. - - Then she, “Be mostly silent!” - And turning to the river, spoke again: - “For him and for me, river, the wandering, - But by you I leave for happiness - Deep foliage, the thickest beeches-- - Though elsewhere they are all dying-- - Tallest oaks and yellow birches - That dip their leaves in you, mourning, - As now I dip my hair, immemorial - Of me, immemorial of him - Immemorial of these our promises! - Here shall be a bird’s paradise, - They sing to you remembering my voice: - Here the most secluded spaces - For miles around, hallowed by a stench - To be our joint solitude and temple; - In memory of this clear marriage - And the child I have brought you in the late years. - Live, river, live in luxuriance - Remembering this our son, - In remembrance of me and my sorrow - And of the new wandering!” - - * * * * * - -Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber: - -con la beautitud=> con la beatitud {pg 5} - -a rough day to=> a rough dray to {pg 26} - -From which he old eyes=> From which her old eyes {pg 79} - - - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Al Que Quiere!, by William Carlos Williams - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AL QUE QUIERE! *** - -***** This file should be named 51997-0.txt or 51997-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/9/9/51997/ - -Produced by Meredith Bach and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Al Que Quiere! - A Book of Poems - -Author: William Carlos Williams - -Release Date: May 4, 2016 [EBook #51997] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AL QUE QUIERE! *** - - - - -Produced by Meredith Bach and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="cb">A BOOK OF POEMS<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_001" id="page_001"></a>{1}</span><br /> -<big>AL QUE QUIERE!</big></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="319" height="500" alt="" title="" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_002" id="page_002"></a>{2}</span></p> - -<div class="bbox"> -<p class="cb"> -<i>By William Carlos Williams</i><br /> -<br /> -<big>THE TEMPERS</big><br /> -<br /> -[London: Elkin Mathews]<br /> -</p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_003" id="page_003"></a>{3}</span></p> - -<h1><small>A BOOK OF POEMS</small><br /> - -AL QUE QUIERE!</h1> - -<p class="c">BY<br /> -WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS<br /> -<br /> -<img src="images/colophon.png" -width="65" -height="91" -alt="colophon" - /><br /> -<br /> -BOSTON<br /> -THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY<br /> -1917<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_004" id="page_004"></a>{4}</span><br /> -<br /> -<i>Copyright, 1917, by</i><br /> -THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY<br /> -<br /> -The Four Seas Press<br /> -Boston, Mass., U. S. A.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_005" id="page_005"></a>{5}</span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>Había sido un arbusto desmedrado que prolonga sus filamentos hasta -encontrar el humus necesario en una tierra nueva. Y cómo me nutría! -Me nutría con la beatitud con que las hojas trémulas de clorófila -se extienden al sol; con la beatitud con que una raíz encuentra un -cadáver en descompositión; con la beatitud con que los -convalecientes dan sus pasos vacilantes en las mañanas de -primavera, bañadas de luz; ...</p> - -<p class="r"> -RAFAEL ARÉVALO MARTÍNEZ<br /> -</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_006" id="page_006"></a>{6}</span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>Many of the poems in this book have appeared in magazines, -especially in <i>Poetry</i>, <i>Others</i>, <i>The Egoist</i>, and <i>The Poetry -Journal</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_007" id="page_007"></a>{7}</span> </p></div> - -<p class="cb"><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="rt"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#SUB_TERRA"><span class="smcap">Sub Terra</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_013">13</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#PASTORAL1"><span class="smcap">Pastoral</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_014">14</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#CHICKORY_AND_DAISIES"><span class="smcap">Chickory and Daisies</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_015">15</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#METRIC_FIGURE"><span class="smcap">Metric Figure</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_016">16</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#WOMAN_WALKING"><span class="smcap">Woman Walking</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_017">17</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#GULLS"><span class="smcap">Gulls</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_018">18</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#APPEAL"><span class="smcap">Appeal</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_019">19</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#IN_HARBOR"><span class="smcap">In Harbor</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_020">20</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#WINTER_SUNSET"><span class="smcap">Winter Sunset</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_021">21</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#APOLOGY"><span class="smcap">Apology</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_022">22</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#PASTORAL2"><span class="smcap">Pastoral</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_023">23</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#LOVE_SONG1"><span class="smcap">Love Song</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_024">24</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#M_B"><span class="smcap">M. B.</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_025">25</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#TRACT"><span class="smcap">Tract</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_026">26</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#PROMENADE"><span class="smcap">Promenade</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_029">29</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#EL_HOMBRE"><span class="smcap">El Hombre</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_031">31</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#HERO"><span class="smcap">Hero</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_031">31</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#LIBERTAD_IGUALDAD_FRATERNIDAD"><span class="smcap">Libertad! Igualdad! Fraternidad!</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_032">32</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#CANTHARA"><span class="smcap">Canthara</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_033">33</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#MUJER"><span class="smcap">Mujer</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_033">33</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#SUMMER_SONG"><span class="smcap">Summer Song</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_034">34</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#LOVE_SONG2"><span class="smcap">Love Song</span></a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_008" id="page_008"></a>{8}</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_035">35</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#FOREIGN"><span class="smcap">Foreign</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_035">35</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#A_PRELUDE"><span class="smcap">A Prelude</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_036">36</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#HISTORY"><span class="smcap">History</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_037">37</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#WINTER_QUIET"><span class="smcap">Winter Quiet</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_042">42</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#DAWN"><span class="smcap">Dawn</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_042">42</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#GOOD_NIGHT"><span class="smcap">Good Night</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_043">43</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#DANSE_RUSSE"><span class="smcap">Danse Russe</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_044">44</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#PORTRAIT_OF_A_WOMAN_IN_BED"><span class="smcap">Portrait of a Woman in Bed</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_045">45</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#VIRTUE"><span class="smcap">Virtue</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_047">47</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#CONQUEST"><span class="smcap">Conquest</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_049">49</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#PORTRAIT_OF_A_YOUNG_MAN_WITH_A_BAD_HEART"><span class="smcap">Portrait of a Young Man With a Bad Heart</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_049">49</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#KELLER_GEGEN_DOM"><span class="smcap">Keller Gegen Dom</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_050">50</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#SMELL"><span class="smcap">Smell</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_052">52</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#BALLET"><span class="smcap">Ballet</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_052">52</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#SYMPATHETIC_PORTRAIT_OF_A_CHILD"><span class="smcap">Sympathetic Portrait of a Child</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_054">54</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#THE_OGRE"><span class="smcap">The Ogre</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_055">55</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#RIPOSTE"><span class="smcap">Riposte</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_056">56</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#THE_OLD_MEN"><span class="smcap">The Old Men</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_057">57</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#PASTORAL3"><span class="smcap">Pastoral</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_057">57</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#SPRING_STRAINS"><span class="smcap">Spring Strains</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_058">58</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#TREES"><span class="smcap">Trees</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_059">59</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#A_PORTRAIT_IN_GREYS"><span class="smcap">A Portrait in Greys</span></a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_009" id="page_009"></a>{9}</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_060">60</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#INVITATION"><span class="smcap">Invitation</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_061">61</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#DIVERTIMIENTO"><span class="smcap">Divertimiento</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_062">62</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#JANUARY_MORNING"><span class="smcap">January Morning</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_062">62</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#TO_A_SOLITARY_DISCIPLE"><span class="smcap">To a Solitary Disciple</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_067">67</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#DEDICATION_FOR_A_PLOT_OF_GROUND"><span class="smcap">Dedication for a Plot of Ground</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_069">69</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#K_McB"><span class="smcap">K. McB.</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_070">70</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#LOVE_SONG3"><span class="smcap">Love Song</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_071">71</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#THE_WANDERER"><span class="smcap">The Wanderer</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_075">75</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_010" id="page_010"></a>{10}</span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_011" id="page_011"></a>{11}</span></p> - -<h1>AL QUE QUIERE!</h1> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_012" id="page_012"></a>{12}</span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_013" id="page_013"></a>{13}</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="SUB_TERRA" id="SUB_TERRA"></a>SUB TERRA</h2> -<span class="i0">Where shall I find you,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">you my grotesque fellows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that I seek everywhere<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to make up my band?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">None, not one<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with the earthy tastes I require;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the burrowing pride that rises<br /></span> -<span class="i0">subtly as on a bush in May.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Where are you this day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">you my seven year locusts<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with cased wings?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ah my beauties how I long—!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That harvest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that shall be your advent—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">thrusting up through the grass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">up under the weeds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">answering me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>that</i> shall be satisfying!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The light shall leap and snap<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that day as with a million lashes!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, I have you; yes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">you are about me in a sense:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">playing under the blue pools<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that are my windows,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">but they shut you out still,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">there in the half light.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_014" id="page_014"></a>{14}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For the simple truth is<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that though I see you clear enough<br /></span> -<span class="i0">you are not there!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It is not that—it is you,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">you I want!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">—God, if I could fathom<br /></span> -<span class="i2">the guts of shadows!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You to come with me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">poking into negro houses<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with their gloom and smell!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In among children<br /></span> -<span class="i0">leaping around a dead dog!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mimicking<br /></span> -<span class="i0">onto the lawns of the rich!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to go with me a-tip-toe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">head down under heaven,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">nostrils lipping the wind!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="PASTORAL1" id="PASTORAL1"></a>PASTORAL</h2> -<span class="i0">When I was younger<br /></span> -<span class="i0">it was plain to me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I must make something of myself.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Older now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I walk back streets<br /></span> -<span class="i0">admiring the houses<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_015" id="page_015"></a>{15}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">of the very poor:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">roof out of line with sides<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the yards cluttered<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with old chicken wire, ashes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">furniture gone wrong;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the fences and outhouses<br /></span> -<span class="i0">built of barrel-staves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and parts of boxes, all,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">if I am fortunate,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">smeared a bluish green<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that properly weathered<br /></span> -<span class="i0">pleases me best<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of all colors.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i5">No one<br /></span> -<span class="i0">will believe this<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of vast import to the nation.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="CHICKORY_AND_DAISIES" id="CHICKORY_AND_DAISIES"></a>CHICKORY AND DAISIES</h2> -<h3>I.</h3> -<span class="i0">Lift your flowers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">on bitter stems<br /></span> -<span class="i0">chickory!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lift them up<br /></span> -<span class="i0">out of the scorched ground!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bear no foliage<br /></span> -<span class="i0">but give yourself<br /></span> -<span class="i0">wholly to that!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_016" id="page_016"></a>{16}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Strain under them<br /></span> -<span class="i0">you bitter stems<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that no beast eats—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and scorn greyness!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Into the heat with them:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">cool!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">luxuriant! sky-blue!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The earth cracks and<br /></span> -<span class="i0">is shriveled up;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the wind moans piteously;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the sky goes out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">if you should fail.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<h3>II.</h3> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I saw a child with daisies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">for weaving into the hair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">tear the stems<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with her teeth!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="METRIC_FIGURE" id="METRIC_FIGURE"></a>METRIC FIGURE</h2> -<span class="i0">There is a bird in the poplars!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is the sun!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The leaves are little yellow fish<br /></span> -<span class="i0">swimming in the river.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The bird skims above them,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">day is on his wings.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Phœbus!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is he that is making<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_017" id="page_017"></a>{17}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">the great gleam among the poplars!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is his singing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">outshines the noise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of leaves clashing in the wind.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="WOMAN_WALKING" id="WOMAN_WALKING"></a>WOMAN WALKING</h2> -<span class="i0">An oblique cloud of purple smoke<br /></span> -<span class="i0">across a milky silhouette<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of house sides and tiny trees—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a little village—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that ends in a saw edge<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of mist-covered trees<br /></span> -<span class="i0">on a sheet of grey sky.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To the right, jutting in,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a dark crimson corner of roof.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the left, half a tree:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">—what a blessing it is<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to see you in the street again,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">powerful woman,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">coming with swinging haunches,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">breasts straight forward,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">supple shoulders, full arms<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and strong, soft hands (I’ve felt them)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">carrying the heavy basket.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I might well see you oftener!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And for a different reason<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_018" id="page_018"></a>{18}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">than the fresh eggs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">you bring us so regularly.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yes, you, young as I,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with boney brows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">kind grey eyes and a kind mouth;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">you walking out toward me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">from that dead hillside!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I might well see you oftener.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="GULLS" id="GULLS"></a>GULLS</h2> -<span class="i0">My townspeople, beyond in the great world,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">are many with whom it were far more<br /></span> -<span class="i0">profitable for me to live than here with you.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These whirr about me calling, calling!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and for my own part I answer them, loud as I can,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">but they, being free, pass!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I remain! Therefore, listen!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For you will not soon have another singer.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">First I say this: you have seen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the strange birds, have you not, that sometimes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">rest upon our river in winter?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_019" id="page_019"></a>{19}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Let them cause you to think well then of the storms<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that drive many to shelter. These things<br /></span> -<span class="i0">do not happen without reason.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And the next thing I say is this:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I saw an eagle once circling against the clouds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">over one of our principal churches—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Easter, it was—a beautiful day!—:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">three gulls came from above the river<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and crossed slowly seaward!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh, I know you have your own hymns, I have heard them—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and because I knew they invoked some great protector<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I could not be angry with you, no matter<br /></span> -<span class="i0">how much they outraged true music—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You see, it is not necessary for us to leap at each other,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and, as I told you, in the end<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the gulls moved seaward very quietly.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="APPEAL" id="APPEAL"></a>APPEAL</h2> -<span class="i0">You who are so mighty,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">crimson salamander,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">hear me once more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_020" id="page_020"></a>{20}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I lay among the half burned sticks<br /></span> -<span class="i0">at the edge of the fire.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The fiend was creeping in.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I felt the cold tips of fingers—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O crimson salamander!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Give me one little flame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">one!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that I may bind it<br /></span> -<span class="i0">protectingly about the wrist<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of him that flung me here,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">here upon the very center!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">This is my song.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="IN_HARBOR" id="IN_HARBOR"></a>IN HARBOR</h2> -<span class="i0">Surely there, among the great docks, is peace, my mind;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">there with the ships moored in the river.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Go out, timid child,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and snuggle in among the great ships talking so quietly.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Maybe you will even fall asleep near them and be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">lifted into one of their laps, and in the morning—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There is always the morning in which to remember it all!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_021" id="page_021"></a>{21}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Of what are they gossiping? God knows.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And God knows it matters little for we cannot understand them.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet it is certainly of the sea, of that there can be no question.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is a quiet sound. Rest! That’s all I care for now.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The smell of them will put us to sleep presently.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Smell! It is the sea water mingling here into the river—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">at least so it seems—perhaps it is something else—but what matter?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The sea water! It is quiet and smooth here!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How slowly they move, little by little trying<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the hawsers that drop and groan with their agony.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yes, it is certainly of the high sea they are talking.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="WINTER_SUNSET" id="WINTER_SUNSET"></a>WINTER SUNSET</h2> -<span class="i0">Then I raised my head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and stared out over<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the blue February waste<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to the blue bank of hill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with stars on it<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_022" id="page_022"></a>{22}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">in strings and festoons—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">but above that:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">one opaque<br /></span> -<span class="i0">stone of a cloud<br /></span> -<span class="i0">just on the hill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">left and right<br /></span> -<span class="i0">as far as I could see;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and above that<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a red streak, then<br /></span> -<span class="i0">icy blue sky!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It was a fearful thing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to come into a man’s heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">at that time: that stone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">over the little blinking stars<br /></span> -<span class="i0">they’d set there.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="APOLOGY" id="APOLOGY"></a>APOLOGY</h2> -<span class="i0">Why do I write today?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The beauty of<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the terrible faces<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of our nonentities<br /></span> -<span class="i0">stirs me to it:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">colored women<br /></span> -<span class="i0">day workers—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">old and experienced—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">returning home at dusk<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_023" id="page_023"></a>{23}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">in cast off clothing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">faces like<br /></span> -<span class="i0">old Florentine oak.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Also<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">the set pieces<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of your faces stir me—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">leading citizens—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">but not<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in the same way.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="PASTORAL2" id="PASTORAL2"></a>PASTORAL</h2> -<span class="i0">The little sparrows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">hop ingenuously<br /></span> -<span class="i0">about the pavement<br /></span> -<span class="i0">quarreling<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with sharp voices<br /></span> -<span class="i0">over those things<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that interest them.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But we who are wiser<br /></span> -<span class="i0">shut ourselves in<br /></span> -<span class="i0">on either hand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and no one knows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">whether we think good<br /></span> -<span class="i0">or evil.<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Meanwhile,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the old man who goes about<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_024" id="page_024"></a>{24}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">gathering dog-lime<br /></span> -<span class="i0">walks in the gutter<br /></span> -<span class="i0">without looking up<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and his tread<br /></span> -<span class="i0">is more majestic than<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that of the Episcopal minister<br /></span> -<span class="i0">approaching the pulpit<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of a Sunday.<br /></span> -<span class="i5">These things<br /></span> -<span class="i0">astonish me beyond words.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="LOVE_SONG1" id="LOVE_SONG1"></a>LOVE SONG</h2> -<span class="i0">Daisies are broken<br /></span> -<span class="i0">petals are news of the day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">stems lift to the grass tops<br /></span> -<span class="i0">they catch on shoes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">part in the middle<br /></span> -<span class="i0">leave root and leaves secure.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Black branches<br /></span> -<span class="i0">carry square leaves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to the wood’s top.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They hold firm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">break with a roar<br /></span> -<span class="i0">show the white!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Your moods are slow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the shedding of leaves<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_025" id="page_025"></a>{25}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">and sure<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the return in May!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We walked<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in your father’s grove<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and saw the great oaks<br /></span> -<span class="i0">lying with roots<br /></span> -<span class="i0">ripped from the ground.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="M_B" id="M_B"></a>M. B.</h2> -<span class="i0">Winter has spent this snow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">out of envy, but spring is here!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He sits at the breakfast table<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in his yellow hair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and disdains even the sun<br /></span> -<span class="i0">walking outside<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in spangled slippers:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He looks out: there is<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a glare of lights<br /></span> -<span class="i0">before a theater,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a sparkling lady<br /></span> -<span class="i0">passes quickly to<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the seclusion of<br /></span> -<span class="i0">her carriage.<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Presently<br /></span> -<span class="i0">under the dirty, wavy heaven<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of a borrowed room he will make<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_026" id="page_026"></a>{26}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">re-inhaled tobacco smoke<br /></span> -<span class="i0">his clouds and try them<br /></span> -<span class="i0">against the sky’s limits!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="TRACT" id="TRACT"></a>TRACT</h2> -<span class="i0">I will teach you my townspeople<br /></span> -<span class="i0">how to perform a funeral—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">for you have it over a troop<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of artists—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">unless one should scour the world—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">you have the ground sense necessary.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">See! the hearse leads.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I begin with a design for a hearse.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For Christ’s sake not black—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">nor white either— and not polished!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let it be weathered— like a farm wagon—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with gilt wheels (this could be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">applied fresh at small expense)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">or no wheels at all:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a rough dray to drag over the ground.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Knock the glass out!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My God—glass, my townspeople!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For what purpose? Is it for the dead<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to look out or for us to see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">how well he is housed or to see<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_027" id="page_027"></a>{27}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">the flowers or the lack of them—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">or what?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To keep the rain and snow from him?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He will have a heavier rain soon:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">pebbles and dirt and what not.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let there be no glass—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and no upholstery phew!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and no little brass rollers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and small easy wheels on the bottom—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">my townspeople what are you thinking of?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A rough plain hearse then<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with gilt wheels and no top at all.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On this the coffin lies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">by its own weight.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i7">No wreathes please—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">especially no hot house flowers.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some common memento is better,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">something he prized and is known by:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">his old clothes— a few books perhaps—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God knows what! You realize<br /></span> -<span class="i0">how we are about these things<br /></span> -<span class="i0">my townspeople—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">something will be found— anything<br /></span> -<span class="i0">even flowers if he had come to that.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So much for the hearse.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For heaven’s sake though see to the driver!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_028" id="page_028"></a>{28}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Take off the silk hat! In fact<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that’s no place at all for him—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">up there unceremoniously<br /></span> -<span class="i0">dragging our friend out to his own dignity!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bring him down— bring him down!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Low and inconspicuous! I’d not have him ride<br /></span> -<span class="i0">on the wagon at all— damn him—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the undertaker’s understrapper!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let him hold the reins<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and walk at the side<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and inconspicuously too!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then briefly as to yourselves:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Walk behind— as they do in France,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">seventh class, or if you ride<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hell take curtains! Go with some show<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of inconvenience; sit openly—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to the weather as to grief.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or do you think you can shut grief in?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What—from us? We who have perhaps<br /></span> -<span class="i0">nothing to lose? Share with us<br /></span> -<span class="i0">share with us— it will be money<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in your pockets.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">Go now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I think you are ready.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_029" id="page_029"></a>{29}</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="PROMENADE" id="PROMENADE"></a>PROMENADE</h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> -<span class="i0">Well, mind, here we have<br /></span> -<span class="i0">our little son beside us:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a little diversion before breakfast!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Come, we’ll walk down the road<br /></span> -<span class="i0">till the bacon will be frying.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We might better be idle?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A poem might come of it?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh, be useful. Save annoyance<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to Flossie and besides—the wind!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It’s cold. It blows our<br /></span> -<span class="i0">old pants out! It makes us shiver!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">See the heavy trees<br /></span> -<span class="i0">shifting their weight before it.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let us be trees, an old house,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a hill with grass on it!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The baby’s arms are blue.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come, move! Be quieted!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h3>II.</h3> -<span class="i0">So. We’ll sit here now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and throw pebbles into<br /></span> -<span class="i0">this water-trickle.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i5">Splash the water up!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Splash it up, Sonny!) Laugh!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hit it there deep under the grass.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_030" id="page_030"></a>{30}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">See it splash! Ah, mind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">see it splash! It is alive!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Throw pieces of broken leaves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">into it. They’ll pass through.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No! Yes—just!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Away now for the cows! But—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It’s cold!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It’s getting dark.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It’s going to rain.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No further!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h3>III.</h3> -<span class="i0">Oh then, a wreath! Let’s<br /></span> -<span class="i0">refresh something they<br /></span> -<span class="i0">used to write well of.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Two fern plumes. Strip them<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to the mid-rib along one side.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bind the tips with a grass stem.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bend and intertwist the stalks<br /></span> -<span class="i0">at the back. So!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ah! now we are crowned!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now we are a poet!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Quickly!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A bunch of little flowers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">for Flossie—the little ones<br /></span> -<span class="i0">only:<br /></span> -<span class="i4">a red clover, one<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_031" id="page_031"></a>{31}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">blue heal-all, a sprig of<br /></span> -<span class="i0">bone-set, one primrose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a head of Indian tobacco, this<br /></span> -<span class="i0">magenta speck and this<br /></span> -<span class="i0">little lavender!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Home now, my mind!—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sonny’s arms are icy, I tell you—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and have breakfast!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="EL_HOMBRE" id="EL_HOMBRE"></a>EL HOMBRE</h2> -<span class="i0">It’s a strange courage<br /></span> -<span class="i0">you give me ancient star:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Shine alone in the sunrise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">toward which you lend no part!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="HERO" id="HERO"></a>HERO</h2> -<span class="i0">Fool,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">put your adventures<br /></span> -<span class="i0">into those things<br /></span> -<span class="i0">which break ships—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">not female flesh.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Let there pass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">over the mind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the waters of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_032" id="page_032"></a>{32}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">four oceans, the airs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of four skies!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Return hollow-bellied,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">keen-eyed, hard!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A simple scar or two.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Little girls will come<br /></span> -<span class="i0">bringing you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">roses for your button-hole.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="LIBERTAD_IGUALDAD_FRATERNIDAD" id="LIBERTAD_IGUALDAD_FRATERNIDAD"></a>LIBERTAD! IGUALDAD! FRATERNIDAD!</h2> -<span class="i0">You sullen pig of a man<br /></span> -<span class="i0">you force me into the mud<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with your stinking ash-cart!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Brother!<br /></span> -<span class="i4">—if we were rich<br /></span> -<span class="i0">we’d stick our chests out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and hold our heads high!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It is dreams that have destroyed us.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There is no more pride<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in horses or in rein holding.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We sit hunched together brooding<br /></span> -<span class="i0">our fate.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_033" id="page_033"></a>{33}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i5">Well—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">all things turn bitter in the end<br /></span> -<span class="i0">whether you choose the right or<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the left way<br /></span> -<span class="i5">and—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">dreams are not a bad thing.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="CANTHARA" id="CANTHARA"></a>CANTHARA</h2> -<span class="i0">The old black-man showed me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">how he had been shocked<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in his youth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">by six women, dancing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a set-dance, stark naked below<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the skirts raised round<br /></span> -<span class="i0">their breasts:<br /></span> -<span class="i6">bellies flung forward<br /></span> -<span class="i0">knees flying!<br /></span> -<span class="i8">—while<br /></span> -<span class="i0">his gestures, against the<br /></span> -<span class="i0">tiled wall of the dingy bath-room,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">swished with ecstasy to<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the familiar music of<br /></span> -<span class="i8">his old emotion.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="MUJER" id="MUJER"></a>MUJER</h2> -<span class="i0">Oh, black Persian cat!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was not your life<br /></span> -<span class="i0">already cursed with offspring?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_034" id="page_034"></a>{34}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We took you for rest to that old<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yankee farm,—so lonely<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and with so many field mice<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in the long grass—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and you return to us<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in this condition—!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, black Persian cat.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="SUMMER_SONG" id="SUMMER_SONG"></a>SUMMER SONG</h2> -<span class="i0">Wanderer moon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">smiling a<br /></span> -<span class="i0">faintly ironical smile<br /></span> -<span class="i0">at this<br /></span> -<span class="i0">brilliant, dew-moistened<br /></span> -<span class="i0">summer morning,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a detached<br /></span> -<span class="i0">sleepily indifferent<br /></span> -<span class="i0">smile, a<br /></span> -<span class="i0">wanderer’s smile,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">if I should<br /></span> -<span class="i0">buy a shirt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">your color and<br /></span> -<span class="i0">put on a necktie<br /></span> -<span class="i0">sky blue<br /></span> -<span class="i0">where would they carry me?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_035" id="page_035"></a>{35}</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="LOVE_SONG2" id="LOVE_SONG2"></a>LOVE SONG</h2> -<span class="i0">Sweep the house clean,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">hang fresh curtains<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in the windows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">put on a new dress<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and come with me!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The elm is scattering<br /></span> -<span class="i0">its little loaves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of sweet smells<br /></span> -<span class="i0">from a white sky!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Who shall hear of us<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in the time to come?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let him say there was<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a burst of fragrance<br /></span> -<span class="i0">from black branches.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="FOREIGN" id="FOREIGN"></a>FOREIGN</h2> -<span class="i0">Artsybashev is a Russian.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am an American.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let us wonder, my townspeople,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">if Artsybashev tends his own fires<br /></span> -<span class="i0">as I do, gets himself cursed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">for the baby’s failure to thrive,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">loosens windows for the woman<br /></span> -<span class="i0">who cleans his parlor—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">or has he neat servants<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_036" id="page_036"></a>{36}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">and a quiet library, an<br /></span> -<span class="i0">intellectual wife perhaps and<br /></span> -<span class="i0">no children,—an apartment<br /></span> -<span class="i0">somewhere in a back street or<br /></span> -<span class="i0">lives alone or with his mother<br /></span> -<span class="i0">or sister—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I wonder, my townspeople,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">if Artsybashev looks upon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">himself the more concernedly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">or succeeds any better than I<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in laying the world.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I wonder which is the bigger<br /></span> -<span class="i0">fool in his own mind.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">These are shining topics<br /></span> -<span class="i0">my townspeople but—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">hardly of great moment.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="A_PRELUDE" id="A_PRELUDE"></a>A PRELUDE</h2> -<span class="i0">I know only the bare rocks of today.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In these lies my brown sea-weed,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">green quartz veins bent through the wet shale;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in these lie my pools left by the tide—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">quiet, forgetting waves;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_037" id="page_037"></a>{37}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">on these stiffen white star fish;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">on these I slip bare footed!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Whispers of the fishy air touch my body;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Sisters,” I say to them.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="HISTORY" id="HISTORY"></a>HISTORY</h2> -<h3>I.</h3> -<span class="i0">A wind might blow a lotus petal<br /></span> -<span class="i0">over the pyramids—but not this wind.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Summer is a dried leaf.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Leaves stir this way then that<br /></span> -<span class="i0">on the baked asphalt, the wheels<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of motor cars rush over them,—<br /></span> -<span class="i3">gas smells mingle with leaf smells.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, Sunday, day of worship!!!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The steps to the museum are high.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Worshippers pass in and out.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nobody comes here today.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I come here to mingle faiance dug<br /></span> -<span class="i0">from the tomb, turquoise colored<br /></span> -<span class="i0">necklaces and belched wind from the<br /></span> -<span class="i0">stomach; delicately veined basins<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of agate, cracked and discolored and<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the stink of stale urine!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_038" id="page_038"></a>{38}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Enter! Elbow in at the door.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Men? Women?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Simpering, clay fetish-faces counting<br /></span> -<span class="i0">through the turnstile.<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Ah!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h3>II.</h3> -<span class="i0">This sarcophagus contained the body<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of Uresh-Nai, priestess to the goddess Mut,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mother of All—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Run your finger against this edge!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">—here went the chisel!—and think<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of an arrogance endured six thousand years<br /></span> -<span class="i0">without a flaw!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But love is an oil to embalm the body.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Love is a packet of spices, a strong<br /></span> -<span class="i0">smelling liquid to be squirted into<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the thigh. No?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Love rubbed on a bald head will make<br /></span> -<span class="i0">hair—and after? Love is<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a lice comber!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Gnats on dung!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“The chisel is in your hand, the block<br /></span> -<span class="i0">is before you, cut as I shall dictate:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">this is the coffin of Uresh-Nai,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_039" id="page_039"></a>{39}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">priestess to the sky goddess,—built<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to endure forever!<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Carve the inside<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with the image of my death in<br /></span> -<span class="i0">little lines of figures three fingers high.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Put a lid on it cut with Mut bending over<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the earth, for my headpiece, and in the year<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to be chosen I will rouse, the lid<br /></span> -<span class="i0">shall be lifted and I will walk about<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the temple where they have rested me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and eat the air of the place:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ah—these walls are high! This<br /></span> -<span class="i0">is in keeping.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h3>III.</h3> -<span class="i0">The priestess has passed into her tomb.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The stone has taken up her spirit!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Granite over flesh: who will deny<br /></span> -<span class="i0">its advantages?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Your death?—water<br /></span> -<span class="i0">spilled upon the ground—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">though water will mount again into rose-leaves—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">but you?—would hold life still,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">even as a memory, when it is over.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Benevolence is rare.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Climb about this sarcophagus, read<br /></span> -<span class="i0">what is writ for you in these figures,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_040" id="page_040"></a>{40}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">hard as the granite that has held them<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with so soft a hand the while<br /></span> -<span class="i0">your own flesh has been fifty times<br /></span> -<span class="i0">through the guts of oxen,—read!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“The rose-tree will have its donor<br /></span> -<span class="i0">even though he give stingily.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The gift of some endures<br /></span> -<span class="i0">ten years, the gift of some twenty<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and the gift of some for the time a<br /></span> -<span class="i0">great house rots and is torn down.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some give for a thousand years to men of<br /></span> -<span class="i0">one face, some for a thousand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to all men and some few to all men<br /></span> -<span class="i0">while granite holds an edge against<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the weather.<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Judge then of love!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h3>IV.</h3> -<span class="i0">“My flesh is turned to stone. I<br /></span> -<span class="i0">have endured my summer. The flurry<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of falling petals is ended. Lay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the finger upon this granite. I was<br /></span> -<span class="i0">well desired and fully caressed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">by many lovers but my flesh<br /></span> -<span class="i0">withered swiftly and my heart was<br /></span> -<span class="i0">never satisfied. Lay your hands<br /></span> -<span class="i0">upon the granite as a lover lays his<br /></span> -<span class="i0">hand upon the thigh and upon the<br /></span> -<span class="i0">round breasts of her who is<br /></span> -<span class="i0">beside him, for now I will not wither,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_041" id="page_041"></a>{41}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">now I have thrown off secrecy, now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I have walked naked into the street,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">now I have scattered my heavy beauty<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in the open market.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here I am with head high and a<br /></span> -<span class="i0">burning heart eagerly awaiting<br /></span> -<span class="i0">your caresses, whoever it may be,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">for granite is not harder than<br /></span> -<span class="i0">my love is open, runs loose among you!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I arrogant against death! I<br /></span> -<span class="i0">who have endured! I worn against<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the years!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h3>V.</h3> -<span class="i0">But it is five o’clock. Come!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Life is good—enjoy it!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A walk in the park while the day lasts.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I will go with you. Look! this<br /></span> -<span class="i0">northern scenery is not the Nile, but—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">these benches—the yellow and purple dusk—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the moon there—these tired people—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the lights on the water!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Are not these Jews and—Ethiopians?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The world is young, surely! Young<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and colored like—a girl that has come upon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a lover! Will that do?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_042" id="page_042"></a>{42}</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="WINTER_QUIET" id="WINTER_QUIET"></a>WINTER QUIET</h2> -<span class="i0">Limb to limb, mouth to mouth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with the bleached grass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">silver mist lies upon the back yards<br /></span> -<span class="i0">among the outhouses.<br /></span> -<span class="i8">The dwarf trees<br /></span> -<span class="i0">pirouette awkwardly to it—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">whirling round on one toe;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the big tree smiles and glances<br /></span> -<span class="i10">upward!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tense with suppressed excitement<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the fences watch where the ground<br /></span> -<span class="i0">has humped an aching shoulder for<br /></span> -<span class="i10">the ecstasy.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="DAWN" id="DAWN"></a>DAWN</h2> -<span class="i0">Ecstatic bird songs pound<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the hollow vastness of the sky<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with metallic clinkings—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">beating color up into it<br /></span> -<span class="i0">at a far edge,—beating it, beating it<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with rising, triumphant ardor,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">stirring it into warmth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">quickening in it a spreading change,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">bursting wildly against it as<br /></span> -<span class="i0">dividing the horizon, a heavy sun<br /></span> -<span class="i0">lifts himself—is lifted—<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_043" id="page_043"></a>{43}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">bit by bit above the edge<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of things,—runs free at last<br /></span> -<span class="i0">out into the open—! lumbering<br /></span> -<span class="i0">glorified in full release upward—<br /></span> -<span class="i10">songs cease.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="GOOD_NIGHT" id="GOOD_NIGHT"></a>GOOD NIGHT</h2> -<span class="i0">In brilliant gas light<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I turn the kitchen spigot<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and watch the water plash<br /></span> -<span class="i0">into the clean white sink.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the grooved drain-board<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to one side is<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a glass filled with parsley—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">crisped green.<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Waiting<br /></span> -<span class="i0">for the water to freshen—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I glance at the spotless floor—:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a pair of rubber sandals<br /></span> -<span class="i0">lie side by side<br /></span> -<span class="i0">under the wall-table,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">all is in order for the night.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Waiting, with a glass in my hand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">—three girls in crimson satin<br /></span> -<span class="i0">pass close before me on<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the murmurous background of<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the crowded opera—<br /></span> -<span class="i10">it is<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_044" id="page_044"></a>{44}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">memory playing the clown—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">three vague, meaningless girls<br /></span> -<span class="i0">full of smells and<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the rustling sound of<br /></span> -<span class="i0">cloth rubbing on cloth and<br /></span> -<span class="i0">little slippers on carpet—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">high-school French<br /></span> -<span class="i0">spoken in a loud voice!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Parsley in a glass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">still and shining,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">brings me back. I take my drink<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and yawn deliciously.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am ready for bed.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="DANSE_RUSSE" id="DANSE_RUSSE"></a>DANSE RUSSE</h2> -<span class="i0">If I when my wife is sleeping<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and the baby and Kathleen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">are sleeping<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and the sun is a flame-white disc<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in silken mists<br /></span> -<span class="i0">above shining trees,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">if I in my north room<br /></span> -<span class="i0">danse naked, grotesquely<br /></span> -<span class="i0">before my mirror<br /></span> -<span class="i0">waving my shirt round my head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and singing softly to myself:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I am lonely, lonely.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_045" id="page_045"></a>{45}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">I was born to be lonely.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am best so!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If I admire my arms, my face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">my shoulders, flanks, buttocks<br /></span> -<span class="i0">against the yellow drawn shades,—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">who shall say I am not<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the happy genius of my household?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="PORTRAIT_OF_A_WOMAN_IN_BED" id="PORTRAIT_OF_A_WOMAN_IN_BED"></a>PORTRAIT OF A WOMAN IN BED</h2> -<span class="i0">There’s my things<br /></span> -<span class="i0">drying in the corner:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that blue skirt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">joined to the grey shirt—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I’m sick of trouble!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lift the covers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">if you want me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and you’ll see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the rest of my clothes—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">though it would be cold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">lying with nothing on!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I won’t work<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and I’ve got no cash.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What are you going to do<br /></span> -<span class="i0">about it?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_046" id="page_046"></a>{46}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">—and no jewelry<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(the crazy fools)<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But I’ve my two eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and a smooth face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and here’s this! look!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">it’s high!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s brains and blood<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in there—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">my name’s Robitza!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Corsets<br /></span> -<span class="i0">can go to the devil—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and drawers along with them!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What do I care!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My two boys?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">—they’re keen!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let the rich lady<br /></span> -<span class="i0">care for them—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">they’ll beat the school<br /></span> -<span class="i0">or<br /></span> -<span class="i0">let them go to the gutter—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that ends trouble.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">This house is empty<br /></span> -<span class="i0">isn’t it?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then it’s mine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">because I need it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_047" id="page_047"></a>{47}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, I won’t starve<br /></span> -<span class="i0">while there’s the Bible<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to make them feed me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Try to help me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">if you want trouble<br /></span> -<span class="i0">or leave me alone—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that ends trouble.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The county physician<br /></span> -<span class="i0">is a damned fool<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">can go to hell!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You could have closed the door<br /></span> -<span class="i0">when you came in;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">do it when you go out.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’m tired.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="VIRTUE" id="VIRTUE"></a>VIRTUE</h2> -<span class="i0">Now? Why—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">whirl-pools of<br /></span> -<span class="i0">orange and purple flame<br /></span> -<span class="i0">feather twists of chrome<br /></span> -<span class="i0">on a green ground<br /></span> -<span class="i0">funneling down upon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the steaming phallus-head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of the mad sun himself—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">blackened crimson!<br /></span> -<span class="i10">Now?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_048" id="page_048"></a>{48}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Why—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">it is the smile of her<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the smell of her<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the vulgar inviting mouth of her!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is—Oh, nothing new<br /></span> -<span class="i0">nothing that lasts<br /></span> -<span class="i0">an eternity, nothing worth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">putting out to interest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">nothing—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">but the fixing of an eye<br /></span> -<span class="i0">concretely upon emptiness!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Come! here are—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">cross-eyed men, a boy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with a patch, men walking<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in their shirts, men in hats<br /></span> -<span class="i0">dark men, a pale man<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with little black moustaches<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and a dirty white coat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">fat men with pudgy faces,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">thin faces, crooked faces<br /></span> -<span class="i0">slit eyes, grey eyes, black eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">old men with dirty beards,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">men in vests with<br /></span> -<span class="i0">gold watch chains. Come!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_049" id="page_049"></a>{49}</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="CONQUEST" id="CONQUEST"></a>CONQUEST<br /> -[<i>Dedicated to F. W.</i>]</h2> -<span class="i0">Hard, chilly colors:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">straw grey, frost grey<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the grey of frozen ground:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and you, O sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">close above the horizon!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is I holds you—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">half against the sky<br /></span> -<span class="i0">half against a black tree trunk<br /></span> -<span class="i0">icily resplendent!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Lie there, blue city, mine at last—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">rimming the banked blue grey<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and rise, indescribable smoky yellow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">into the overpowering white!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="PORTRAIT_OF_A_YOUNG_MAN_WITH_A_BAD_HEART" -id="PORTRAIT_OF_A_YOUNG_MAN_WITH_A_BAD_HEART"></a>PORTRAIT OF A YOUNG MAN<br /> -WITH A BAD HEART</h2> -<span class="i0">Have I seen her?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only through the window<br /></span> -<span class="i0">across the street.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">If I go meeting her<br /></span> -<span class="i0">on the corner<br /></span> -<span class="i0">some damned fool<br /></span> -<span class="i0">will go blabbing it<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_050" id="page_050"></a>{50}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">to the old man and<br /></span> -<span class="i0">she’ll get hell.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’s a queer old bastard!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Every time he sees me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">you’d think<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wanted to kill him.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I figure it out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">it’s best to let things<br /></span> -<span class="i0">stay as they are—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">for a while at least.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It’s hard<br /></span> -<span class="i0">giving up the thing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">you want most<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in the world, but with this<br /></span> -<span class="i0">damned pump of mine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">liable to give out ...<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She’s a good kid<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and I’d hate to hurt her<br /></span> -<span class="i0">but if she can get over it—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">it’d be the best thing.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="KELLER_GEGEN_DOM" id="KELLER_GEGEN_DOM"></a>KELLER GEGEN DOM</h2> -<span class="i0">Witness, would you—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">one more young man<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in the evening of his love<br /></span> -<span class="i0">hurrying to confession:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_051" id="page_051"></a>{51}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">steps down a gutter<br /></span> -<span class="i0">crosses a street<br /></span> -<span class="i0">goes in at a doorway<br /></span> -<span class="i0">opens for you—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">like some great flower—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a room filled with lamplight;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">or whirls himself<br /></span> -<span class="i0">obediently to<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the curl of a hill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">some wind-dancing afternoon;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">lies for you in<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the futile darkness of<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a wall, sets stars dancing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to the crack of a leaf—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">and—leaning his head away—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">snuffs (secretly)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the bitter powder from<br /></span> -<span class="i0">his thumb’s hollow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">takes your blessing and<br /></span> -<span class="i0">goes home to bed?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Witness instead<br /></span> -<span class="i0">whether you like it or not<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a dark vinegar smelling place<br /></span> -<span class="i0">from which trickles<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the chuckle of<br /></span> -<span class="i0">beginning laughter<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It strikes midnight.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_052" id="page_052"></a>{52}</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="SMELL" id="SMELL"></a>SMELL!</h2> -<span class="i0">Oh strong ridged and deeply hollowed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">nose of mine! what will you not be smelling?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What tactless asses we are, you and I, boney nose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">always indiscriminate, always unashamed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and now it is the souring flowers of the bedraggled<br /></span> -<span class="i0">poplars: a festering pulp on the wet earth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">beneath them. With what deep thirst<br /></span> -<span class="i0">we quicken our desires<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to that rank odor of a passing spring-time!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Can you not be decent? Can you not reserve your ardors<br /></span> -<span class="i0">for something less unlovely? What girl will care<br /></span> -<span class="i0">for us, do you think, if we continue in these ways?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Must you taste everything? Must you know everything?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Must you have a part in everything?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="BALLET" id="BALLET"></a>BALLET</h2> -<span class="i0">Are you not weary,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">great gold cross<br /></span> -<span class="i0">shining in the wind—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">are you not weary<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_053" id="page_053"></a>{53}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">of seeing the stars<br /></span> -<span class="i0">turning over you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and the sun<br /></span> -<span class="i0">going to his rest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and you frozen with<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a great lie<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that leaves you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">rigid as a knight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">on a marble coffin?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">—and you,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">higher, still,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">robin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">untwisting a song<br /></span> -<span class="i0">from the bare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">top-twigs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">are you not<br /></span> -<span class="i0">weary of labor,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">even the labor of<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a song?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Come down—join me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">for I am lonely.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">First it will be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a quiet pace<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to ease our stiffness<br /></span> -<span class="i0">but as the west yellows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">you will be ready!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_054" id="page_054"></a>{54}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here in the middle<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of the roadway<br /></span> -<span class="i0">we will fling<br /></span> -<span class="i0">ourselves round<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with dust lilies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">till we are bound in<br /></span> -<span class="i0">their twining stems!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We will tear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">their flowers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with arms flashing!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And when<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the astonished stars<br /></span> -<span class="i0">push aside<br /></span> -<span class="i0">their curtains<br /></span> -<span class="i0">they will see us<br /></span> -<span class="i0">fall exhausted where<br /></span> -<span class="i0">wheels and<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the pounding feet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of horses<br /></span> -<span class="i0">will crush forth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">our laughter.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="SYMPATHETIC_PORTRAIT_OF_A_CHILD" -id="SYMPATHETIC_PORTRAIT_OF_A_CHILD"></a>SYMPATHETIC PORTRAIT OF A<br /> -CHILD</h2> -<span class="i0">The murderer’s little daughter<br /></span> -<span class="i0">who is barely ten years old<br /></span> -<span class="i0">jerks her shoulders<br /></span> -<span class="i0">right and left<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_055" id="page_055"></a>{55}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">so as to catch a glimpse of me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">without turning round.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her skinny little arms<br /></span> -<span class="i0">wrap themselves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">this way then that<br /></span> -<span class="i0">reversely about her body!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nervously<br /></span> -<span class="i0">she crushes her straw hat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">about her eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and tilts her head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to deepen the shadow—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">smiling excitedly!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">As best as she can<br /></span> -<span class="i0">she hides herself<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in the full sunlight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">her cordy legs writhing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">beneath the little flowered dress<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that leaves them bare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">from mid-thigh to ankle—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Why has she chosen me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">for the knife<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that darts along her smile?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="THE_OGRE" id="THE_OGRE"></a>THE OGRE</h2> -<span class="i0">Sweet child,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">little girl with well shaped legs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">you cannot touch the thoughts<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I put over and under and around you.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_056" id="page_056"></a>{56}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">This is fortunate for they would<br /></span> -<span class="i0">burn you to an ash otherwise.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your petals would be quite curled up.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">This is all beyond you—no doubt,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">yet you do feel the brushings<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of the fine needles;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the tentative lines of your whole body<br /></span> -<span class="i0">prove it to me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">so does your fear of me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">your shyness;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">likewise the toy baby cart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that you are pushing—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and besides, mother has begun<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to dress your hair in a knot.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These are my excuses.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="RIPOSTE" id="RIPOSTE"></a>RIPOSTE</h2> -<span class="i0">Love is like water or the air<br /></span> -<span class="i0">my townspeople;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">it cleanses, and dissipates evil gases.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is like poetry too<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and for the same reasons.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Love is so precious<br /></span> -<span class="i0">my townspeople<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that if I were you I would<br /></span> -<span class="i0">have it under lock and key—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">like the air or the Atlantic or<br /></span> -<span class="i0">like poetry!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_057" id="page_057"></a>{57}</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="THE_OLD_MEN" id="THE_OLD_MEN"></a>THE OLD MEN</h2> -<span class="i0">Old men who have studied<br /></span> -<span class="i0">every leg show<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in the city<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Old men cut from touch<br /></span> -<span class="i0">by the perfumed music—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">polished or fleeced skulls<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that stand before<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the whole theater<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in silent attitudes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of attention,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">old men who have taken precedence<br /></span> -<span class="i0">over young men<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and even over dark-faced<br /></span> -<span class="i0">husbands whose minds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">are a street with arc-lights.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Solitary old men for whom<br /></span> -<span class="i0">we find no excuses—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I bow my head in shame<br /></span> -<span class="i0">for those who malign you.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Old men<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the peaceful beer of impotence<br /></span> -<span class="i0">be yours!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="PASTORAL3" id="PASTORAL3"></a>PASTORAL</h2> -<span class="i0">If I say I have heard voices<br /></span> -<span class="i0">who will believe me?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">“None has dipped his hand<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_058" id="page_058"></a>{58}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i2">in the black waters of the sky<br /></span> -<span class="i2">nor picked the yellow lilies<br /></span> -<span class="i2">that sway on their clear stems<br /></span> -<span class="i2">and no tree has waited<br /></span> -<span class="i2">long enough nor still enough<br /></span> -<span class="i2">to touch fingers with the moon.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I looked and there were little frogs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with puffed out throats,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">singing in the slime.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="SPRING_STRAINS" id="SPRING_STRAINS"></a>SPRING STRAINS</h2> -<span class="i0">In a tissue-thin monotone of blue-grey buds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">crowded erect with desire against<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the sky—<br /></span> -<span class="i5">tense blue-grey twigs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">slenderly anchoring them down, drawing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">them in—<br /></span> -<span class="i5">two blue-grey birds chasing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a third struggle in circles, angles,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">swift convergings to a point that bursts<br /></span> -<span class="i0">instantly!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i5">Vibrant bowing limbs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">pull downward, sucking in the sky<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that bulges from behind, plastering itself<br /></span> -<span class="i0">against them in packed rifts, rock blue<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and dirty orange!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">But—<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_059" id="page_059"></a>{59}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">(Hold hard, rigid jointed trees!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the blinding and red-edged sun-blur—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">creeping energy, concentrated<br /></span> -<span class="i0">counterforce—welds sky, buds, trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">rivets them in one puckering hold!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sticks through! Pulls the whole<br /></span> -<span class="i0">counter-pulling mass upward, to the right,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">locks even the opaque, not yet defined<br /></span> -<span class="i0">ground in a terrific drag that is<br /></span> -<span class="i0">loosening the very tap-roots!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">On a tissue-thin monotone of blue-grey buds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">two blue-grey birds, chasing a third,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">at full cry! Now they are<br /></span> -<span class="i0">flung outward and up—disappearing suddenly!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="TREES" id="TREES"></a>TREES</h2> -<span class="i0">Crooked, black tree<br /></span> -<span class="i0">on your little grey-black hillock,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">ridiculously raised one step toward<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the infinite summits of the night:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">even you the few grey stars<br /></span> -<span class="i0">draw upward into a vague melody<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of harsh threads.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Bent as you are from straining<br /></span> -<span class="i0">against the bitter horizontals of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_060" id="page_060"></a>{60}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">a north wind,—there below you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">how easily the long yellow notes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of poplars flow upward in a descending<br /></span> -<span class="i0">scale, each note secure in its own<br /></span> -<span class="i0">posture—singularly woven.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">All voices are blent willingly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">against the heaving contra-bass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of the dark but you alone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">warp yourself passionately to one side<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in your eagerness.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="A_PORTRAIT_IN_GREYS" id="A_PORTRAIT_IN_GREYS"></a>A PORTRAIT IN GREYS</h2> -<span class="i0">Will it never be possible<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to separate you from your greyness?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Must you be always sinking backward<br /></span> -<span class="i0">into your grey-brown landscapes—and trees<br /></span> -<span class="i0">always in the distance, always against<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a grey sky?<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Must I be always<br /></span> -<span class="i0">moving counter to you? Is there no place<br /></span> -<span class="i0">where we can be at peace together<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and the motion of our drawing apart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">be altogether taken up?<br /></span> -<span class="i8">I see myself<br /></span> -<span class="i0">standing upon your shoulders touching<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_061" id="page_061"></a>{61}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">a grey, broken sky—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">but you, weighted down with me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">yet gripping my ankles,—move<br /></span> -<span class="i8">laboriously on,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">where it is level and undisturbed by colors.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="INVITATION" id="INVITATION"></a>INVITATION</h2> -<span class="i0">You who had the sense<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to choose me such a mother,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">you who had the indifference<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to create me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">you who went to some pains<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to leave hands off me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in the formative stages,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(I thank you most for that<br /></span> -<span class="i0">perhaps)<br /></span> -<span class="i8">but you who<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with an iron head, first,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">fiercest and with strongest love<br /></span> -<span class="i0">brutalized me into strength,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">old dew-lap,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I have reached the stage<br /></span> -<span class="i0">where I am teaching myself<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to laugh.<br /></span> -<span class="i10">Come on,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">take a walk with me.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_062" id="page_062"></a>{62}</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="DIVERTIMIENTO" id="DIVERTIMIENTO"></a>DIVERTIMIENTO</h2> -<span class="i0">Miserable little woman<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in a brown coat—<br /></span> -<span class="i10">quit whining!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My hand for you!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We’ll skip down the tin cornices<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of Main Street<br /></span> -<span class="i0">flicking the dull roof-line<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with our toe-tips!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hop clear of the bank! A<br /></span> -<span class="i0">pin-wheel round the white flag-pole.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And I’ll sing you the while<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a thing to split your sides<br /></span> -<span class="i0">about Johann Sebastian Bach,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the father of music, who had<br /></span> -<span class="i0">three wives and twenty-two children.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="JANUARY_MORNING" id="JANUARY_MORNING"></a>JANUARY MORNING<br /><br /></h2> -<span class="wandd">SUITE</span> - -<h3>I.</h3> -<span class="i0">I have discovered that most of<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the beauties of travel are due to<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the strange hours we keep to see them:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">the domes of the Church of<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the Paulist Fathers in Weehawken<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_063" id="page_063"></a>{63}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">against a smoky dawn—the heart stirred—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">are beautiful as Saint Peters<br /></span> -<span class="i0">approached after years of anticipation.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h3>II.</h3> -<span class="i0">Though the operation was postponed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I saw the tall probationers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in their tan uniforms<br /></span> -<span class="i6">hurrying to breakfast!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h3>III.</h3> -<span class="i0">—and from basement entrys<br /></span> -<span class="i0">neatly coiffed, middle aged gentlemen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with orderly moustaches and<br /></span> -<span class="i0">well brushed coats<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h3>IV.</h3> -<span class="i0">—and the sun, dipping into the avenues<br /></span> -<span class="i0">streaking the tops of<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the irregular red houselets,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">and<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the gay shadows dropping and dropping.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h3>V.</h3> -<span class="i0">—and a young horse with a green bed-quilt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">on his withers shaking his head:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">bared teeth and nozzle high in the air!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_064" id="page_064"></a>{64}</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h3>VI.</h3> -<span class="i0">—and a semicircle of dirt colored men<br /></span> -<span class="i0">about a fire bursting from an old<br /></span> -<span class="i0">ash can,<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h3>VII.</h3> -<span class="i6">—and the worn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">blue car rails (like the sky!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">gleaming among the cobbles!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h3>VIII.</h3> -<span class="i0">—and the rickety ferry-boat “Arden”!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What an object to be called “Arden”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">among the great piers,—on the<br /></span> -<span class="i0">ever new river!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">“Put me a Touchstone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">at the wheel, white gulls, and we’ll<br /></span> -<span class="i0">follow the ghost of the Half Moon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to the North West Passage—and through!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(at Albany!) for all that!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h3>IX.</h3> -<span class="i0">Exquisite brown waves—long<br /></span> -<span class="i0">circlets of silver moving over you!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">enough with crumbling ice-crusts among you!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sky has come down to you,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">lighter than tiny bubbles, face to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_065" id="page_065"></a>{65}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">face with you!<br /></span> -<span class="i8">His spirit is<br /></span> -<span class="i0">a white gull with delicate pink feet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and a snowy breast for you to<br /></span> -<span class="i0">hold to your lips delicately!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h3>X.</h3> -<span class="i0">The young doctor is dancing with happiness<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in the sparkling wind, alone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">at the prow of the ferry! He notices<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the curdy barnacles and broken ice crusts<br /></span> -<span class="i0">left at the slip’s base by the low tide<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and thinks of summer and green<br /></span> -<span class="i0">shell crusted ledges among<br /></span> -<span class="i6">the emerald eel-grass!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h3>XI.</h3> -<span class="i0">Who knows the Palisades as I do<br /></span> -<span class="i0">knows the river breaks east from them<br /></span> -<span class="i0">above the city—but they continue south<br /></span> -<span class="i0">—under the sky—to bear a crest of<br /></span> -<span class="i0">little peering houses that brighten<br /></span> -<span class="i0">with dawn behind the moody<br /></span> -<span class="i0">water-loving giants of Manhattan.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h3>XII.</h3> - -<span class="i0">Long yellow rushes bending<br /></span> -<span class="i0">above the white snow patches;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">purple and gold ribbon<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_066" id="page_066"></a>{66}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">of the distant wood:<br /></span> -<span class="i8">what an angle<br /></span> -<span class="i0">you make with each other as<br /></span> -<span class="i0">you lie there in contemplation.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h3>XIII.</h3> - -<span class="i0">Work hard all your young days<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and they’ll find you too, some morning<br /></span> -<span class="i0">staring up under<br /></span> -<span class="i0">your chiffonier at its warped<br /></span> -<span class="i0">bass-wood bottom and your soul—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">out!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">—among the little sparrows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">behind the shutter.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h3>XIV.</h3> -<span class="i0">—and the flapping flags are at<br /></span> -<span class="i0">half mast for the dead admiral.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h3>XV.</h3> -<span class="i0">All this—<br /></span> -<span class="i3">was for you, old woman.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wanted to write a poem<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that you would understand.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For what good is it to me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">if you can’t understand it?<br /></span> -<span class="i5">But you got to try hard—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Well, you know how<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the young girls run giggling<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_067" id="page_067"></a>{67}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">on Park Avenue after dark<br /></span> -<span class="i0">when they ought to be home in bed?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Well,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that’s the way it is with me somehow.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="TO_A_SOLITARY_DISCIPLE" id="TO_A_SOLITARY_DISCIPLE"></a>TO A SOLITARY DISCIPLE</h2> -<span class="i0">Rather notice, mon cher,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that the moon is<br /></span> -<span class="i0">tilted above<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the point of the steeple<br /></span> -<span class="i0">than that its color<br /></span> -<span class="i0">is shell-pink.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Rather observe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that it is early morning<br /></span> -<span class="i0">than that the sky<br /></span> -<span class="i0">is smooth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">as a turquoise.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Rather grasp<br /></span> -<span class="i0">how the dark<br /></span> -<span class="i0">converging lines<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of the steeple<br /></span> -<span class="i0">meet at the pinnacle—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">perceive how<br /></span> -<span class="i0">its little ornament<br /></span> -<span class="i0">tries to stop them—<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_068" id="page_068"></a>{68}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">See how it fails!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">See how the converging lines<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of the hexagonal spire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">escape upward—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">receding, dividing!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">—sepals<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that guard and contain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the flower!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Observe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">how motionless<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the eaten moon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">lies in the protecting lines.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It is true:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in the light colors<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of morning<br /></span> -<span class="i0">brown-stone and slate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">shine orange and dark blue.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But observe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the oppressive weight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of the squat edifice!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Observe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the jasmine lightness<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of the moon.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_069" id="page_069"></a>{69}</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="DEDICATION_FOR_A_PLOT_OF_GROUND" id="DEDICATION_FOR_A_PLOT_OF_GROUND"></a>DEDICATION FOR A PLOT OF GROUND</h2> -<span class="i0">This plot of ground<br /></span> -<span class="i0">facing the waters of this inlet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">is dedicated to the living presence of<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Emily Richardson Wellcome<br /></span> -<span class="i0">who was born in England; married;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">lost her husband and with<br /></span> -<span class="i0">her five year old son<br /></span> -<span class="i0">sailed for New York in a two-master;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">was driven to the Azores;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">ran adrift on Fire Island shoal,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">met her second husband<br /></span> -<span class="i0">in a Brooklyn boarding house,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">went with him to Puerto Rico<br /></span> -<span class="i0">bore three more children, lost<br /></span> -<span class="i0">her second husband, lived hard<br /></span> -<span class="i0">for eight years in St. Thomas,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Puerto Rico, San Domingo, followed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the oldest son to New York,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">lost her daughter, lost her “baby,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">seized the two boys of<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the oldest son by the second marriage<br /></span> -<span class="i0">mothered them—they being<br /></span> -<span class="i0">motherless—fought for them<br /></span> -<span class="i0">against the other grandmother<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and the aunts, brought them here<br /></span> -<span class="i0">summer after summer, defended<br /></span> -<span class="i0">herself here against thieves,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_070" id="page_070"></a>{70}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">storms, sun, fire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">against flies, against girls<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that came smelling about, against<br /></span> -<span class="i0">drought, against weeds, storm-tides,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">neighbors, weasles that stole her chickens,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">against the weakness of her own hands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">against the growing strength of<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the boys, against wind, against<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the stones, against trespassers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">against rents, against her own mind.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She grubbed this earth with her own hands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">domineered over this grass plot,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">blackguarded her oldest son<br /></span> -<span class="i0">into buying it, lived here fifteen years,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">attained a final loneliness and—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">If you can bring nothing to this place<br /></span> -<span class="i0">but your carcass, keep out.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="K_McB" id="K_McB"></a>K. McB.</h2> -<span class="i0">You exquisite chunk of mud<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Kathleen—just like<br /></span> -<span class="i0">any other chunk of mud!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">—especially in April!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Curl up round their shoes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">when they try to step on you,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">spoil the polish!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_071" id="page_071"></a>{71}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">I shall laugh till I am sick<br /></span> -<span class="i0">at their amazement.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Do they expect the ground to be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">always solid?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Give them the slip then;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">let them sit in you;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">soil their pants;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">teach them a dignity<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that is dignity, the dignity<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of mud!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<span class="i5">Lie basking in<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the sun then—fast asleep!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Even become dust on occasion.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="LOVE_SONG3" id="LOVE_SONG3"></a>LOVE SONG</h2> -<span class="i0">I lie here thinking of you:—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">the stain of love<br /></span> -<span class="i0">is upon the world!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yellow, yellow, yellow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">it eats into the leaves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">smears with saffron<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the horned branches that lean<br /></span> -<span class="i0">heavily<br /></span> -<span class="i0">against a smooth purple sky!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There is no light<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_072" id="page_072"></a>{72}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">only a honey-thick stain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that drips from leaf to leaf<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and limb to limb<br /></span> -<span class="i0">spoiling the colors<br /></span> -<span class="i0">of the whole world—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">you far off there under<br /></span> -<span class="i0">the wine-red selvage of the west!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_073" id="page_073"></a>{73}</span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_074" id="page_074"></a>{74}</span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_075" id="page_075"></a>{75}</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<h2><a name="THE_WANDERER" id="THE_WANDERER"></a>THE WANDERER<br /><br /> -<i>A Rococo Study</i></h2> -<span class="wandd">ADVENT</span> -<span class="i0">Even in the time when as yet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I had no certain knowledge of her<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She sprang from the nest, a young crow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose first flight circled the forest.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I know now how then she showed me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her mind, reaching out to the horizon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She close above the tree tops.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I saw her eyes straining at the new distance<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as the woods fell from her flying<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Likewise they fell from me as I followed—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So that I strongly guessed all that I must put from me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To come through ready for the high courses.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But one day, crossing the ferry<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the great towers of Manhattan before me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out at the prow with the sea wind blowing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I had been wearying many questions<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which she had put on to try me:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How shall I be a mirror to this modernity?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When lo! in a rush, dragging<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A blunt boat on the yielding river—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Suddenly I saw her! And she waved me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the white wet in midst of her playing!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She cried me, “Haia! Here I am, son!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_076" id="page_076"></a>{76}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">See how strong my little finger is!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Can I not swim well?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I can fly too!” And with that a great sea-gull<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Went to the left, vanishing with a wild cry—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But in my mind all the persons of godhead<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Followed after.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="wandd">CLARITY</span> -<span class="i0">“Come!” cried my mind and by her might<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That was upon us we flew above the river<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seeking her, grey gulls among the white—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the air speaking as she had willed it:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I am given,” cried I, “now I know it!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I know now all my time is forespent!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For me one face is all the world!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For I have seen her at last, this day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In whom age in age is united—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Indifferent, out of sequence, marvelously!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Saving alone that one sequence<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which is the beauty of all the world, for surely<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Either there in the rolling smoke spheres below us<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or here with us in the air intercircling,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Certainly somewhere here about us<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I know she is revealing these things!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And as gulls we flew and with soft cries<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We seemed to speak, flying, “It is she<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The mighty, recreating the whole world,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This the first day of wonders!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_077" id="page_077"></a>{77}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">She is attiring herself before me—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Taking shape before me for worship,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A red leaf that falls upon a stone!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is she of whom I told you, old<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forgiveless, unreconcilable;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That high wanderer of by-ways<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Walking imperious in beggary!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At her throat is loose gold, a single chain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From among many, on her bent fingers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are rings from which the stones are fallen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her wrists wear a diminished state, her ankles<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are bare! Toward the river! Is it she there?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we swerved clamorously downward—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I will take my peace in her henceforth!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="wandd">BROADWAY</span> -<span class="i0">It was then she struck—from behind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In mid air, as with the edge of a great wing!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And instantly down the mists of my eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There came crowds walking—- men as visions<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With expressionless, animate faces;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Empty men with shell-thin bodies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Jostling close above the gutter,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hasting—nowhere! And then for the first time<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I really saw her, really scented the sweat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of her presence and—fell back sickened!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ominous, old, painted—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With bright lips, and lewd Jew’s eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her might strapped in by a corset<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To give her age youth, perfect<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_078" id="page_078"></a>{78}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">In her will to be young she had covered<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The godhead to go beside me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Silent, her voice entered at my eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And my astonished thought followed her easily:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Well, do their eyes shine, do their clothes fit?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These <i>live</i> I tell you! Old men with red cheeks,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Young men in gay suits! See them!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dogged, quivering, impassive—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Well—are these the ones you envied?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At which I answered her, “Marvelous old queen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Grant me power to catch something of this day’s<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Air and sun into your service!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That these toilers after peace and after pleasure<br /></span> -<span class="i0">May turn to you, worshippers at all hours!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But she sniffed upon the words warily—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet I persisted, watching for an answer:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“To you, horrible old woman,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who know all fires out of the bodies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of all men that walk with lust at heart!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To you, O mighty, crafty prowler<br /></span> -<span class="i0">After the youth of all cities, drunk<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the sight of thy archness! All the youth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That come to you, you having the knowledge<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rather than to those uninitiate—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To you, marvelous old queen, give me always<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A new marriage—”<br /></span> -<span class="i8">But she laughed loudly—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“A new grip upon those garments that brushed me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In days gone by on beach, lawn, and in forest!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">May I be lifted still, up and out of terror,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_079" id="page_079"></a>{79}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up from before the death living around me—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tom up continually and carried<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whatever way the head of your whim is,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A burr upon those streaming tatters—”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the night had fallen, she stilled me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And led me away.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="wandd">PATERSON—THE STRIKE</span> -<span class="i0">At the first peep of dawn she roused me!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I rose trembling at the change which the night saw!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For there, wretchedly brooding in a corner<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From which her old eyes glittered fiercely—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Go!” she said, and I hurried shivering<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out into the deserted streets of Paterson.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">That night she came again, hovering<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In rags within the filmy ceiling—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Great Queen, bless me with thy tatters!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“You are blest, go on!”<br /></span> -<span class="i10">“Hot for savagery,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sucking the air! I went into the city,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out again, baffled onto the mountain!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Back into the city!<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Nowhere<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The subtle! Everywhere the electric!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“A short bread-line before a hitherto empty tea shop:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_080" id="page_080"></a>{80}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">No questions—all stood patiently,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dominated by one idea: something<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That carried them as they are always wanting to be carried,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But what is it,’ I asked those nearest me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘This thing heretofore unobtainable<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That they seem so clever to have put on now!’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Why since I have failed them can it be anything but their own brood?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Can it be anything but brutality?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On that at least they’re united! That at least<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is their bean soup, their calm bread and a few luxuries!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“But in me, more sensitive, marvelous old queen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It sank deep into the blood, that I rose upon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The tense air enjoying the dusty fight!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heavy drink were the low, sloping foreheads<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The flat skulls with the unkempt black or blond hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The ugly legs of the young girls, pistons<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Too powerful for delicacy!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The women’s wrists, the men’s arms, red<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Used to heat and cold, to toss quartered beeves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And barrels, and milk-cans, and crates of fruit!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Faces all knotted up like burls on oaks,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Grasping, fox-snouted, thick-lipped,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sagging breasts and protruding stomachs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rasping voices, filthy habits with the hands.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_081" id="page_081"></a>{81}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Nowhere you! Everywhere the electric!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Ugly, venemous, gigantic!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tossing me as a great father his helpless<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Infant till it shriek with ecstasy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And its eyes roll and its tongue hangs out!—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I am at peace again, old queen, I listen clearer now.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="wandd">ABROAD</span> -<span class="i0">Never, even in a dream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have I winged so high nor so well<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As with her, she leading me by the hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That first day on the Jersey mountains!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And never shall I forget<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The trembling interest with which I heard<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her voice in a low thunder:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“You are safe here. Look child, look open-mouth!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The patch of road between the steep bramble banks;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The tree in the wind, the white house there, the sky!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Speak to men of these, concerning me!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For never while you permit them to ignore me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In these shall the full of my freed voice<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come grappling the ear with intent!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never while the air’s clear coolness<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_082" id="page_082"></a>{82}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is seized to be a coat for pettiness;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never while richness of greenery<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stands a shield for prurient minds;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never, permitting these things unchallenged<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall my voice of leaves and varicolored bark come free through!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At which, knowing her solitude,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I shouted over the country below me:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Waken! my people, to the boughs green<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With ripening fruit within you!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Waken to the myriad cinquefoil<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the waving grass of your minds!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Waken to the silent phoebe nest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under the eaves of your spirit!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But she, stooping nearer the shifting hills<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spoke again. “Look there! See them!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There in the oat field with the horses,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">See them there! bowed by their passions<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Crushed down, that had been raised as a roof beam!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The weight of the sky is upon them<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under which all roof beams crumble.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There is none but the single roof beam:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There is no love bears against the great firefly!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At this I looked up at the sun<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then shouted again with all the might I had.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But my voice was a seed in the wind.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then she, the old one, laughing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seized me and whirling about bore back<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_083" id="page_083"></a>{83}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the city, upward, still laughing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until the great towers stood above the marshland<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wheeling beneath: the little creeks, the mallows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That I picked as a boy, the Hackensack<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So quiet that seemed so broad formerly:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The crawling trains, the cedar swamp on the one side—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All so old, so familiar—so new now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To my marvelling eyes as we passed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Invisible.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="wandd">SOOTHSAY</span> -<span class="i0">Eight days went by, eight days<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Comforted by no nights, until finally:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Would you behold yourself old, beloved?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I was pierced, yet I consented gladly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For I knew it could not be otherwise.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she—“Behold yourself old!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sustained in strength, wielding might in gript surges!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not bodying the sun in weak leaps<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But holding way over rockish men<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With fern free fingers on their little crags,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their hollows, the new Atlas, to bear them<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For pride and for mockery! Behold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yourself old! winding with slow might—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A vine among oaks—to the thin tops:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leaving the leafless leaved,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bearing purple clusters! Behold<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_084" id="page_084"></a>{84}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yourself old! birds are behind you.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You are the wind coming that stills birds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shakes the leaves in booming polyphony—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Slow, winning high way amid the knocking<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of boughs, evenly crescendo,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The din and bellow of the male wind!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leap then from forest into foam!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lash about from low into high flames<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tipping sound, the female chorus—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Linking all lions, all twitterings<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To make them nothing! Behold yourself old!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As I made to answer she continued,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A little wistfully yet in a voice clear cut:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Good is my over lip and evil<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My underlip to you henceforth:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For I have taken your soul between my two hands<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And this shall be as it is spoken.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="wandd">ST. JAMES’ GROVE</span> -<span class="i0">And so it came to that last day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When, she leading by the hand, we went out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Early in the morning, I heavy of heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For I knew the novitiate was ended<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The ecstasy was over, the life begun.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In my woolen shirt and the pale blue necktie<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My grandmother gave me, there I went<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the old queen right past the houses<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_085" id="page_085"></a>{85}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of my friends down the hill to the river<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As on any usual day, any errand.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alone, walking under trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I went with her, she with me in her wild hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By Santiago Grove and presently<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She bent forward and knelt by the river,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Passaic, that filthy river.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there dabbling her mad hands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She called me close beside her.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Raising the water then in the cupped palm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She bathed our brows wailing and laughing:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“River, we are old, you and I,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We are old and by bad luck, beggars.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lo, the filth in our hair, our bodies stink!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Old friend, here I have brought you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The young soul you long asked of me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stand forth, river, and give me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The old friend of my revels!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Give me the well-worn spirit,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For here I have made a room for it,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I will return to you forthwith<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The youth you have long asked of me:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stand forth, river, and give me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The old friend of my revels!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And the filthy Passaic consented!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then she, leaping up with a fierce cry:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Enter, youth, into this bulk!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Enter, river, into this young man!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_086" id="page_086"></a>{86}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then the river began to enter my heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Eddying back cool and limpid<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Into the crystal beginning of its days.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But with the rebound it leaped forward:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Muddy, then black and shrunken<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till I felt the utter depth of its rottenness<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The vile breadth of its degradation<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And dropped down knowing this was me now.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But she lifted me and the water took a new tide<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Again into the older experiences,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And so, backward and forward,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It tortured itself within me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until time had been washed finally under,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the river had found its level<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And its last motion had ceased<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I knew all—it became me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I knew this for double certain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For there, whitely, I saw myself<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Being borne off under the water!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I could have shouted out in my agony<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the sight of myself departing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forever—but I bit back my despair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For she had averted her eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By which I knew well what she was thinking—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And so the last of me was taken.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then she, “Be mostly silent!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And turning to the river, spoke again:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“For him and for me, river, the wandering,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But by you I leave for happiness<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_087" id="page_087"></a>{87}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deep foliage, the thickest beeches—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Though elsewhere they are all dying—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tallest oaks and yellow birches<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That dip their leaves in you, mourning,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As now I dip my hair, immemorial<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of me, immemorial of him<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Immemorial of these our promises!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here shall be a bird’s paradise,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They sing to you remembering my voice:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here the most secluded spaces<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For miles around, hallowed by a stench<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To be our joint solitude and temple;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In memory of this clear marriage<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the child I have brought you in the late years.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Live, river, live in luxuriance<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Remembering this our son,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In remembrance of me and my sorrow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And of the new wandering!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><a name="transcrib" id="transcrib"></a></p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="" -style="padding:2%;border:3px dotted gray;"> -<tr><th align="center">Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:</th></tr> -<tr><td align="center">con la beautitud=> con la beatitud {pg 5}</td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">a rough day to=> a rough dray to {pg 26}</td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">From which he old eyes=> From which her old eyes {pg 79}</td></tr> -</table> - -<hr class="full" /> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Al Que Quiere!, by William Carlos Williams - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AL QUE QUIERE! *** - -***** This file should be named 51997-h.htm or 51997-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/9/9/51997/ - -Produced by Meredith Bach and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American 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