He, who was born

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1. The house where I was born (04) Another time. It was still night. Water slid Silently on the black ground, And I knew that my only task would be To remember, and I laughed, I bent down, I took from the mud A pile of branches and leaves, I lifted up the whole dripping mass In arms I held close to my […]...
2. Joy and Pleasure Now, joy is born of parents poor, And pleasure of our richer kind; Though pleasure’s free, she cannot sing As sweet a song as joy confined. Pleasure’s a Moth, that sleeps by day And dances by false glare at night; But Joy’s a Butterfly, that loves To spread its wings in Nature’s light. Joy’s like […]...
3. I Remember, I Remember I Remember, I Remember I remember, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon Nor brought too long a day; But now, I often wish the night Had borne my breath away. I remember, I remember The […]...
4. Past and Present I remember, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon Nor bought too long a day; But now, I often wish the night Had borne my breath away. I remember, I remember The roses, red and white, […]...
5. The house where I was born (01) I woke up, it was the house where I was born, Sea foam splashed against the rock, Not a single bird, only the wind to open and close the wave, Everywhere on the horizon the smell of ashes, As if the hills were hiding a fire That somewhere else was burning up a universe. I […]...
6. The house where I was born (08) I open my eyes, yes, it’s the house where I was born, Exactly as it was and nothing more. The same small dining room whose window Gives onto a peach tree that never grows. A man and a woman are seated At this window, facing one another, They are talking, for once. And the child […]...
7. Sonnet VIII: Love, Born In Greece Love, born in Greece, of late fled from his native place, Forc’d by a tedious proof, that Turkish harden’d heart Is no fit mark to pierce with his fine pointed dart, And pleas’d with our soft peace, stayed here his flying race. But finding these north climes do coldly him embrace, Not used to frozen […]...
8. The Earthly Paradise: Apology Of Heaven or Hell I have no power to sing, I cannot ease the burden of your fears, Or make quick-coming death a little thing, Or bring again the pleasure of past years, Nor for my words shall ye forget your tears, Or hope again for aught that I can say, The idle singer of […]...
9. Never Born THE TIME has gone by. The child is dead. The child was never even born. Why go on? Why so much as begin? How can we turn the clock back now And not laugh at each other As ashes laugh at ashes?...
10. The Native-Born We’ve drunk to the Queen God bless her! We’ve drunk to our mothers’ land; We’ve drunk to our English brother, (But he does not understand); We’ve drunk to the wide creation, And the Cross swings low for the mom, Last toast, and of Obligation, A health to the Native-born! They change their skies above them, […]...
11. The Source The sleep that flits on baby’s eyes-does anybody know from where It comes? Yes, there is a rumour that it has its dwelling where, In the fairy village among shadows of the forest dimly lit with Glow-worms, there hang two shy buds of enchantment. From there it Comes to kiss baby’s eyes. The smile that […]...
12. The house where I was born (03) I woke up, it was the house where I was born, It was night, trees were crowding On all sides around our door, I was alone on the doorstep in the cold wind, No, not alone, for two huge beings Were speaking to each other above me, through me. One, behind, an old woman, stooped, […]...
13. The Man Born to Farming The Grower of Trees, the gardener, the man born to farming, Whose hands reach into the ground and sprout To him the soil is a divine drug. He enters into death Yearly, and comes back rejoicing. He has seen the light lie down In the dung heap, and rise again in the corn. His thought […]...
14. The house where I was born (09) And then the day came When I heard the extraordinary lines in Keats, The evocation of Ruth “when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn.” I did not need to search for the meaning Of these words, For it was in me since childhood, I had only to recognize and to […]...
15. Born Brothers Equality is absolute or no. Nothing between can stand. We are the sons Of the same sire, or madness breaks and runs Through the rude world. Ridiculous our woe If single pity does not love it. So Our separate fathers love us. No man shuns His poorest child’s embrace. We are the sons Of such, […]...
16. Dissolute Many years have I still to burn, detained Like a candle flame on this body; but I enshine A darkness within me, a presence which sleeps contained In my flame of living, her soul enfolded in mine. And through these years, while I burn on the fuel of life, What matter the stuff I lick […]...
17. The house where I was born (02) I woke up, it was the house where I was born. It was raining softly in all the rooms, I went from one to another, looking at The water that shone on the mirrors Piled up everywhere, some broken or even Pushed between the furniture and the walls. It was from these reflections that sometimes […]...
18. My Voice Within this restless, hurried, modern world We took our hearts’ full pleasure – You and I, And now the white sails of our ship are furled, And spent the lading of our argosy. Wherefore my cheeks before their time are wan, For very weeping is my gladness fled, Sorrow has paled my young mouth’s vermilion, […]...
19. The house where I was born (05) In the same dream I am lying in the hollow of a boat, My forehead and eyes against the curved planks Where I can hear the undercurrents Striking the bottom of the boat. All at once, the prow rises up, And I think that we’ve come to the estuary, But I keep my eyes against […]...
20. The house where I was born (07) I remember, it was a morning, in summer, The window was half-open, I drew near, I could see my father at the end of the garden. He was motionless, looking for something, I could not tell what, or where, beyond the world, His body was already bent over, but his gaze Was lifted toward the […]...
21. The house where I was born (10) And then life; and once again A house where I was born. Around us The granary above what once had been a church, The gentle play of shadow from the dawn clouds, And in us that smell of the dry straw That had seemed to be waiting for us From the moment the last sack, […]...
22. The house where I was born (06) I woke up, but I was travelling, The train had rolled throughout the night, It was now going toward huge clouds That were standing, packed together, down there, Dawn rent from time to time by forks of lightning. I watched the advent of the world In the bushes of the embankment; and all at once […]...
23. The Queen's Men Valour and Innocence Have latterly gone hence To certain death by certain shame attended. Envy ah! even to tears! The fortune of their years Which, though so few, yet so divinely ended. Scarce had they lifted up Life’s full and fiery cup, Than they had set it down untouched before them. Before their day arose […]...
24. Ode to Gumbo after Sue Owen Born from flour anointed with oil, From a roux dark and mean as a horse’s breath, You remind me of some strange, mystical stew Spawned from a muddy version of Macbeth. Only someone’s replaced the spells with spices, The witches with a Cajun chef. Maybe you’re a recipe torn from Satan’s Cookbook, […]...
25. The Great Grey Plain Out West, where the stars are brightest, Where the scorching north wind blows, And the bones of the dead gleam whitest, And the sun on a desert glows Yet within the selfish kingdom Where man starves man for gain, Where white men tramp for existence Wide lies the Great Grey Plain. No break in its […]...
26. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
27. Poets Vain is the chiming of forgotten bells That the wind sways above a ruined shrine. Vainer his voice in whom no longer dwells Hunger that craves immortal Bread and Wine. Light songs we breathe that perish with our breath Out of our lips that have not kissed the rod. They shall not live who have […]...
28. The Song Of The Soldier-Born Give me the scorn of the stars and a peak defiant; Wail of the pines and a wind with the shout of a giant; Night and a trail unknown and a heart reliant. Give me to live and love in the old, bold fashion; A soldier’s billet at night and a soldier’s ration; A heart […]...
29. Rita And The Rifle Between Rita and my eyes There is a rifle And whoever knows Rita Kneels and plays To the divinity in those honey-colored eyes And I kissed Rita When she was young And I remember how she approached And how my arm covered the loveliest of braids And I remember Rita The way a sparrow remembers […]...
30. Exit For what we owe to other days, Before we poisoned him with praise, May we who shrank to find him weak Remember that he cannot speak. For envy that we may recall, And for our faith before the fall, May we who are alive be slow To tell what we shall never know. For penance […]...
31. HOW PANSIES OR HEARTS-EASE CAME FIRST Frolic virgins once these were, Overloving, living here; Being here their ends denied Ran for sweet-hearts mad, and died. Love, in pity of their tears, And their loss in blooming years, For their restless here-spent hours, Gave them hearts-ease turn’d to flowers....
32. Brave New World One spoke: “Come, let us gaily go With laughter, love and lust, Since in a century or so We’ll all be boneyard dust. When unborn shadows hold the screen, (Our betters, I’ll allow) ‘Twill be as if we’d never been, A hundred years from now. When we have played life’s lively game Right royally we’ll […]...
33. Pleasure XXIV Then a hermit, who visited the city once a year, came forth and said, “Speak to us of Pleasure.” And he answered, saying: Pleasure is a freedom song, But it is not freedom. It is the blossoming of your desires, But it is not their fruit. It is a depth calling unto a height, But […]...
34. Evening Song Full moon rising on the waters of my heart, Lakes and moon and fires, Cloine tires, Holding her lips apart. Promises of slumber leaving shore to charm the moon, Miracle made vesper-keeps, Cloine sleeps, And I’ll be sleeping soon. Cloine, curled like the sleepy waters whtere the moonwaves start, Radiant, resplendently she gleams, Cloine dreams, […]...
35. The Virgin Mother WHO is that goddess to whom men should pray, But her from whom their hearts have turned away, Out of whose virgin being they were born, Whose mother nature they have named with scorn Calling its holy substance common clay. Yet from this so despised earth was made The milky whiteness of those queens who […]...
36. Once I Pass'd Through a Populous City ONCE I pass’d through a populous city, imprinting my brain, for future use, with its shows, architecture, customs, and traditions; Yet now, of all that city, I remember only a woman I casually met there, who detain’d me for love of me; Day by day and night by night we were together, All else has […]...
37. One Bumper at Parting One bumper at parting! though many Have circled the board since we met, The fullest, the saddest of any Remains to be crown’d by us yet. The sweetness that pleasure hath in it Is always so slow to come forth, That seldom, alas, till the minute It dies, do we know half its worth. But […]...
38. The Time Around Scars A girl whom I’ve not spoken to Or shared coffee with for several years Writes of an old scar. On her wrist it sleeps, smooth and white, The size of a leech. I gave it to her Brandishing a new Italian penknife. Look, I said turning, And blood spat onto her shirt. My wife has […]...
39. The Things We Dare Not Tell The fields are fair in autumn yet, and the sun’s still shining there, But we bow our heads and we brood and fret, because of the masks we wear; Or we nod and smile the social while, and we say we’re doing well, But we break our hearts, oh, we break our hearts! for the […]...
40. I'd Love To Be A Fairy's Child Children born of fairy stock Never need for shirt or frock, Never want for food or fire, Always get their hearts desire: Jingle pockets full of gold, Marry when they’re seven years old. Every fairy child may keep Two ponies and ten sheep; All have houses, each his own, Built of brick or granite stone; […]...