EXPLANATION OF AN ANTIQUE GEM

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1. The Explanation Love and Death once ceased their strife At the Tavern of Man’s Life. Called for wine, and threw alas! Each his quiver on the grass. When the bout was o’er they found Mingled arrows strewed the ground. Hastily they gathered then Each the loves and lives of men. Ah, the fateful dawn deceived! Mingled arrows […]...
2. The Partial Explanation Seems like a long time Since the waiter took my order. Grimy little luncheonette, The snow falling outside. Seems like it has grown darker Since I last heard the kitchen door Behind my back Since I last noticed Anyone pass on the street. A glass of ice-water Keeps me company At this table I chose […]...
3. 207. Song-I'm O'er Young to Marry yet Chorus.-I’m o’er young, I’m o’er young, I’m o’er young to marry yet; I’m o’er young, ‘twad be a sin To tak me frae my mammy yet. I AM my mammny’s ae bairn, Wi’ unco folk I weary, sir; And lying in a man’s bed, I’m fley’d it mak me eerie, sir. I’m o’er young, &c. […]...
4. Classical Indian Explanation: Music past the hippies Past Ravi Shankar Eons before When the first Asian snake Came alive Stiffened with sound Through some empty shell Some hollow wood Some emptiness The snake Was not so much charmed As listening intently To the accidental flute To that which he knew Must be female Its empty insides Calling him With […]...
5. LEGEND THERE lived in the desert a holy man To whom a goat-footed Faun one day Paid a visit, and thus began To his surprise: “I entreat thee to pray That grace to me and my friends may be given, That we may be able to mount to Heaven, For great is our thirst for heav’nly […]...
6. From the Antique It’s a weary life, it is, she said: Doubly blank in a woman’s lot: I wish and I wish I were a man: Or, better then any being, were not: Were nothing at all in all the world, Not a body and not a soul: Not so much as a grain of dust Or a […]...
7. The Bible is an antique Volume The Bible is an antique Volume Written by faded men At the suggestion of Holy Spectres Subjects Bethlehem Eden the ancient Homestead Satan the Brigadier Judas the Great Defaulter David the Troubador Sin a distinguished Precipice Others must resist Boys that “believe” are very lonesome Other Boys are “lost” Had but the Tale a warbling […]...
8. The Antique To The Northern Wanderer Thou hast crossed over torrents, and swung through wide-spreading ocean, Over the chain of the Alps dizzily bore thee the bridge, That thou might’st see me from near, and learn to value my beauty, Which the voice of renown spreads through the wandering world. And now before me thou standest, canst touch my altar so […]...
9. Sonnet XXVI: Where Antique Woods Where antique woods o’er-hang the mountains’s crest, And mid-day glooms in solemn silence lour; Philosophy, go seek a lonely bow’r, And waste life’s fervid noon in fancied rest. Go, where the bird of sorrow weaves her nest, Cooing, in sadness sweet, through night’s dim hour; Go, cull the dew-drops from each potent flow’r That med’cines […]...
10. A Door just opened on a street A Door just opened on a street I lost was passing by An instant’s Width of Warmth disclosed And Wealth and Company. The Door as instant shut And I I lost was passing by Lost doubly but by contrast most Informing misery...
11. "It Might Have Been&quot We will be what we could be. Do not say, “It might have been, had not this, or that, or this.” No fate can keep us from the chosen way; He only might who is. We will do what we could do. Do not dream Chance leaves a hero, all uncrowned to grieve. I hold, […]...
12. LE JARDIN DES TUILERIES This winter air is keen and cold, And keen and cold this winter sun, But round my chair the children run Like little things of dancing gold. Sometimes about the painted kiosk The mimic soldiers strut and stride, Sometimes the blue-eyed brigands hide In the bleak tangles of the bosk. And sometimes, while the old […]...
13. I Have Some Friends I have some friends, some worthy friends, And worthy friends are rare: These carpet slippers on my feet, That padded leather chair; This old and shabby dressing-gown, So well the worse of wear. I have some friends, some honest friends, And honest friends are few; My pipe of briar, my open fire, A book that’s […]...
14. An Arab Shepherd Is Searching For His Goat On Mount Zion An Arab shepherd is searching for his goat on Mount Zion And on the opposite hill I am searching for my little boy. An Arab shepherd and a Jewish father Both in their temporary failure. Our two voices met above The Sultan’s Pool in the valley between us. Neither of us wants the boy or […]...
15. Hare Drummer Do the boys and girls still go to Siever’s For cider, after school, in late September? Or gather hazel nuts among the thickets On Aaron Hatfield’s farm when the frosts begin? For many times with the laughing girls and boys Played I along the road and over the hills When the sun was low and […]...
16. This Life With Kit, Age 7, at the Beach We would climb the highest dune, From there to gaze and come down: The ocean was performing; We contributed our climb. Waves leapfrogged and came Straight out of the storm. What should our gaze mean? Kit waited for me to decide. Standing on such a hill, What would […]...
17. Hostel Beach, Oneroa The cliff sprang from the sea at end of Hostel Beach, If the tide was out you’d reach a tiny bay beyond The cape without wet feet, an easy stroll but too effete For blood as hot as ours. We watched it at full flood; A risky place to contemplate the games we planned, We […]...
18. Colors Passing Through Us Purple as tulips in May, mauve Into lush velvet, purple As the stain blackberries leave On the lips, on the hands, The purple of ripe grapes Sunlit and warm as flesh. Every day I will give you a color, Like a new flower in a bud vase On your desk. Every day I will paint […]...
19. Tidy I miss you too. Something old is broken, Nobody’s in hell. Sometimes I kiss strangers, Sometimes no one speaks. Today in fact It’s raining. I go out on the lawn. It’s such a tiny garden, Like a photo of a pool. I am cold, Are you? Sometimes we go dancing, Cars follow us back home. […]...
20. Cacoethes Scribendi If all the trees in all the woods were men; And each and every blade of grass a pen; If every leaf on every shrub and tree Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea Were changed to ink, and all earth’s living tribes Had nothing else to do but act as scribes, And for […]...
21. From Citron-Bower From citron-bower be her bed, Cut from branch of tree a-flower, Fashioned for her maidenhead. From Lydian apples, sweet of hue, Cut the width of board and lathe, Carve the feet from myrtle-wood. Let the palings of her bed Be quince and box-wood overlaid With the scented bark of yew. That all the wood in […]...
22. The Billy-Goat Overland Come all ye lads of the droving days, ye gentlemen unafraid, I’ll tell you all of the greatest trip that ever a drover made, For we rolled our swags, and we packed our bags, and taking our lives in hand, We started away with a thousand goats, on the billy-goat overland. There wasn’t a fence […]...
23. By the Hoof of the Wild Goat By the Hoof of the Wild Goat uptossed From the cliff where she lay in the Sun Fell the Stone To the Tarn where the daylight is lost, So she fell from the light of the Sun And alone! Now the fall was ordained from the first With the Goat and the Cliff and the […]...
24. At Cheyenne Young Lochinvar came in from the West, With fringe on his trousers and fur on his vest; The width of his hat-brim could nowhere be beat, His No. Brogans were chuck full of feet, His girdle was horrent with pistols and things, And he flourished a handful of aces on kings. The fair Mariana sate […]...
25. THE MUSES' SON [Goethe quotes the beginning of this song in His Autobiography, as expressing the manner in which his poetical Effusions used to pour out from him.] THROUGH field and wood to stray, And pipe my tuneful lay, ‘Tis thus my days are pass’d; And all keep tune with me, And move in harmony, And so on, […]...
26. Irkalla's White Caves I believe that a young woman Is standing in a circle of lions In the other side of the sky. In a little while I must carry her the flowers Which only fade here; and she will not cry If my hands are not very full. ± Fiery antlers toss within the forests of heaven […]...
27. A Curse For A Nation I heard an angel speak last night, And he said ‘Write! Write a Nation’s curse for me, And send it over the Western Sea.’ I faltered, taking up the word: ‘Not so, my lord! If curses must be, choose another To send thy curse against my brother. ‘For I am bound by gratitude, By love […]...
28. Spring And All By the road to the contagious hospital Under the surge of the blue Mottled clouds driven from the Northeast-a cold wind. Beyond, the Waste of broad, muddy fields Brown with dried weeds, standing and fallen Patches of standing water The scattering of tall trees All along the road the reddish Purplish, forked, upstanding, twiggy Stuff […]...
29. Peace And sometimes I am sorry when the grass Is growing over the stones in quiet hollows And the cocksfoot leans across the rutted cart-pass That I am not the voice of country fellows Who now are standing by some headland talking Of turnips and potatoes or young corn Of turf banks stripped for victory. Here […]...
30. Last Night the Rain Spoke to Me Last night The rain Spoke to me Slowly, saying, What joy To come falling Out of the brisk cloud, To be happy again In a new way On the earth! That’s what it said As it dropped, Smelling of iron, And vanished Like a dream of the ocean Into the branches And the grass below. […]...
31. Anna Who Was Mad Anna who was mad, I have a knife in my armpit. When I stand on tiptoe I tap out messages. Am I some sort of infection? Did I make you go insane? Did I make the sounds go sour? Did I tell you to climb out the window? Forgive. Forgive. Say not I did. Say […]...
32. Postponement SNOW-BOUND in woodland, a mournful word, Dropt now and then from the bill of a bird, Reached me on wind-wafts; and thus I heard, Wearily waiting: “I planned her a nest in a leafless tree, But the passers eyed and twitted me, And said: ‘How reckless a bird is he, Cheerily mating!’ “Fear-filled, I stayed […]...
33. 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 […]...
34. Moving Forward The deep parts of my life pour onward, As if the river shores were opening out. It seems that things are more like me now, That I can see farther into paintings. I feel closer to what language can’t reach. With my senses, as with birds, I climb Into the windy heaven, out of the […]...
35. A Sea Dirge There are certain things as, a spider, a ghost, The income-tax, gout, an umbrella for three That I hate, but the thing that I hate the most Is a thing they call the Sea. Pour some salt water over the floor Ugly I’m sure you’ll allow it to be: Suppose it extended a mile or […]...
36. The Sea There are certain things – a spider, a ghost, The income-tax, gout, an umbrella for three – That I hate, but the thing that I hate the most Is a thing they call the SEA. Pour some salt water over the floor – Ugly I’m sure you’ll allow it to be: Suppose it extended a […]...
37. The Foolish Fir-Tree A tale that the poet Rückert told To German children, in days of old; Disguised in a random, rollicking rhyme Like a merry mummer of ancient time, And sent, in its English dress, to please The little folk of the Christmas trees. A little fir grew in the midst of the wood Contented and happy, […]...
38. The Witch's Life When I was a child There was an old woman in our neighborhood whom we called The Witch. All day she peered from her second story Window From behind the wrinkled curtains And sometimes she would open the window And yell: Get out of my life! She had hair like kelp And a voice like […]...
39. The Girt Woak Tree The girt woak tree that’s in the dell! There’s noo tree I do love so well; Vor times an’ times when I wer young I there’ve a-climb’d, an’ there’ve a-zwung, An’ pick’d the eacorns green, a-shed In wrestlen storms from his broad head, An’ down below’s the cloty brook Where I did vish with line […]...
40. Lullaby It is a summer evening. The yellow moths sag Against the locked screens And the faded curtains Suck over the window sills And from another building A goat calls in his dreams. This is the TV parlor In the best ward at Bedlam. The night nurse is passing Out the evening pills. She walks on […]...