Roots and Leaves Themselves Alone

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1. Unfolded Out of the Folds UNFOLDED out of the folds of the woman, man comes unfolded, and is always to come unfolded; Unfolded only out of the superbest woman of the earth, is to come the superbest man of the earth; Unfolded out of the friendliest woman, is to come the friendliest man; Unfolded only out of the perfect body […]...
2. Landing Under Water, I See Roots All the things we hide in water Hoping we won’t see them go- (forests growing under water Press against the ones we know)- And they might have gone on growing And they might now breathe above Everything I speak of sowing (everything I try to love)....
3. Gathering Leaves Spades take up leaves No better than spoons, And bags full of leaves Are light as balloons. I make a great noise Of rustling all day Like rabbit and deer Running away. But the mountains I raise Elude my embrace, Flowing over my arms And into my face. I may load and unload Again and […]...
4. 232. Song-The Day Returns THE DAY returns, my bosom burns, The blissful day we twa did meet: Tho’ winter wild in tempest toil’d, Ne’er summer-sun was half sae sweet. Than a’ the pride that loads the tide, And crosses o’er the sultry line; Than kingly robes, than crowns and globes, Heav’n gave me more-it made thee mine! While day […]...
5. Late Leaves THE leaves are falling; so am I; The few late flowers have moisture in the eye; So have I too. Scarcely on any bough is heard Joyous, or even unjoyous, bird The whole wood through. Winter may come: he brings but nigher His circle (yearly narrowing) to the fire Where old friends meet. Let him; […]...
6. A Dirge “Mein Herz, mein Herz ist traurig Doch lustig leuchtet der Mai” There’s May amid the meadows, There’s May amid the trees; Her May-time note the cuckoo Sends forth upon the breeze. Above the rippling river May swallows skim and dart; November and December Keep watch within my heart. The spring breathes in the breezes, The […]...
7. The Color of the Grave is Green The Color of the Grave is Green The Outer Grave I mean You would not know it from the Field Except it own a Stone To help the fond to find it Too infinite asleep To stop and tell them where it is But just a Daisy deep The Color of the Grave is white […]...
8. Fallen Leaves Why should I be the first to fall Of all the leaves on this old tree? Though sadly soon I know that all Will lose their hold and follow me. While my birth-brothers bravely blow, Why should I be first to go? Why should I be the last to cling Of all the leaves on […]...
9. Blessing A feel of warmth in this place. In winter air, a scent of harvest. No form of prayer is needed, When by sudden grace attended. Naturally, we fall from grace. Mere humans, we forget what light Led us, lonely, to this place....
10. Winter Trees All the complicated details Of the attiring and The disattiring are completed! A liquid moon Moves gently among The long branches. Thus having prepared their buds Against a sure winter The wise trees Stand sleeping in the cold....
11. The Life of Love XVI Spring Come, my beloved; let us walk amidst the knolls, For the snow is water, and Life is alive from its Slumber and is roaming the hills and valleys. Let us follow the footprints of Spring into the Distant fields, and mount the hilltops to draw Inspiration high above the cool green plains. Dawn of […]...
12. Leaves Compared With Flowers A tree’s leaves may be ever so good, So may its bar, so may its wood; But unless you put the right thing to its root It never will show much flower or fruit. But I may be one who does not care Ever to have tree bloom or bear. Leaves for smooth and bark […]...
13. What shall I do with this body they gave me What shall I do with this body they gave me, So much my own, so intimate with me? For being alive, for the joy of calm breath, Tell me, who should I bless? I am the flower, and the gardener as well, And am not solitary, in earth’s cell. My living warmth, exhaled, you can […]...
14. The Burning of the Leaves Now is the time for the burning of the leaves, They go to the fire; the nostrils prick with smoke Wandering slowly into the weeping mist. Brittle and blotched, ragged and rotten sheaves! A flame seizes the smouldering ruin, and bites On stubborn stalks that crackle as they resist. The last hollyhock’s fallen tower is […]...
15. Even Because Because it all just breaks apart, and the pieces scatter and rearrange without much fanfare or notice. Because you can’t and don’t remember the step that kicked up dust and left this planet-you’d give up even more now. Because the body itself-the heart’s Not dead but deeper, wrapped up in curtains, a different color, among […]...
16. Bring, In This Timeless Grave To Throw XLVI Bring, in this timeless grave to throw No cypress, sombre on the snow; Snap not from the bitter yew His leaves that live December through; Break no rosemary, bright with rime And sparkling to the cruel crime; Nor plod the winter land to look For willows in the icy brook To cast them leafless […]...
17. The Falling Of The Leaves Autumn is over the long leaves that love us, And over the mice in the barley sheaves; Yellow the leaves of the rowan above us, And yellow the wet wild-strawberry leaves. The hour of the waning of love has beset us, And weary and worn are our sad souls now; Let us patt, ere the […]...
18. Here the Frailest Leaves of Me HERE the frailest leaves of me, and yet my strongest-lasting: Here I shade and hide my thoughts-I myself do not expose them, And yet they expose me more than all my other poems....
19. The Widening Spell Of Leaves The Carpathian Frontier, October, 1968 for my brother Once, in a foreign country, I was suddenly ill. I was driving south toward a large city famous For so little it had a replica, in concrete, In two-thirds scale, of the Arc de Triomphe stuck In the midst of traffic, & obstructing it. But the city […]...
20. The Investment Over back where they speak of life as staying (‘You couldn’t call it living, for it ain’t’), There was an old, old house renewed with paint, And in it a piano loudly playing. Out in the plowed ground in the cold a digger, Among unearthed potatoes standing still, Was counting winter dinners, one a hill, […]...
21. A Japanese Wood-Carving High up above the open, welcoming door It hangs, a piece of wood with colours dim. Once, long ago, it was a waving tree And knew the sun and shadow through the leaves Of forest trees, in a thick eastern wood. The winter snows had bent its branches down, The spring had swelled its buds […]...
22. Sonnet 44 – Beloved, thou hast brought me many flowers Beloved, thou hast brought me many flowers Plucked in the garden, all the summer through And winter, and it seemed as if they grew In this close room, nor missed the sun and showers. So, in the like name of that love of ours, Take back these thoughts which here unfolded too, And which on […]...
23. The Winter's Spring The winter comes; I walk alone, I want no bird to sing; To those who keep their hearts their own The winter is the spring. No flowers to please-no bees to hum- The coming spring’s already come. I never want the Christmas rose To come before its time; The seasons, each as God bestows, Are […]...
24. Coda There’s little in taking or giving, There’s little in water or wine; This living, this living, this living Was never a project of mine. Oh, hard is the struggle, and sparse is The gain of the one at the top, For art is a form of catharsis, And love is a permanent flop, And work […]...
25. On The Farm There was Dai Puw. He was no good. They put him in the fields to dock swedes, And took the knife from him, when he came home At late evening with a grin Like the slash of a knife on his face. There was Llew Puw, and he was no good. Every evening after the […]...
26. So Breaks The Sun So breaks the sun earth’s rugged chains, Wherein rude winter bound her veins; So grows both stream and source of price, That lately fettered were with ice. So naked trees get crisped heads, And colored coats the roughest meads, And all get vigor, youth, and spright, That are but looked on by his light....
27. Song My silks and fine array, My smiles and languish’d air, By love are driv’n away; And mournful lean Despair Brings me yew to deck my grave; Such end true lovers have. His face is fair as heav’n When springing buds unfold; O why to him was’t giv’n Whose heart is wintry cold? His breast is […]...
28. Round-Pond Water ruffled and speckled by galloping wind Which puffs and spurts it into tiny pashing breaks Dashed with lemon-yellow afternoon sunlight. The shining of the sun upon the water Is like a scattering of gold crocus-petals In a long wavering irregular flight. The water is cold to the eye As the wind to the cheek. […]...
29. Swing high and swing low Swing high and swing low While the breezes they blow – It’s off for a sailor thy father would go; And it’s here in the harbor, in sight of the sea, He hath left his wee babe with my song and with me: “Swing high and swing low While the breezes they blow!” Swing high […]...
30. The Lake The yard half a yard, Half a lake blue as a corpse. The lake will tell things you long to hear: Get away from here. Three o’clock. Dry leaves rat-tat like maracas. Whisky-colored grass Breaks at every step and trees Are slowly realizing they are nude. How long will you stay? For the lake asks […]...
31. UPON LOVE:BY WAY OF QUESTION AND ANSWER I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? ANS. Like, and dislike ye. I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? ANS. Stroke ye, to strike ye. I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? ANS. Love will be-fool ye. I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? ANS. Heat ye, […]...
32. Spring Pools These pools that, though in forests, still reflect The total sky almost without defect, And like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver, Will like the flowers beside them soon be gone, And yet not out by any brook or river, But up by roots to bring dark foliage on. The trees that have it […]...
33. Betrothed You have put your two hands upon me, and your mouth, You have said my name as a prayer. Here where trees are planted by the water I have watched your eyes, cleansed from regret, And your lips, closed over all that love cannot say, My mother remembers the agony of her womb And long […]...
34. Heiress And Architect For A. W. B. SHE sought the Studios, beckoning to her side An arch-designer, for she planned to build. He was of wise contrivance, deeply skilled In every intervolve of high and wide Well fit to be her guide. “Whatever it be,” Responded he, With cold, clear voice, and cold, clear view, “In true accord […]...
35. Farm Boy After Summer A seated statue of himself he seems. A bronze slowness becomes him. Patently The page he contemplates he doesn’t see. The lesson, the long lesson, has been summer. His mind holds summer, as his skin holds sun. For once the homework, all of it, was done. What were the crops, where were the fiery fields […]...
36. Her Reply IF all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd’s tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy Love. But Time drives flocks from field to fold; When rivers rage and rocks grow cold; And Philomel becometh dumb; The rest complains of cares to come. The […]...
37. Boldness in Love Mark how the bashful morn in vain Courts the amorous marigold, With sighing blasts and weeping rain, Yet she refuses to unfold. But when the planet of the day Approacheth with his powerful ray, The she spreads, then she receives His warmer beams into her virgin leaves. So shalt thou thrive in love, fond boy; […]...
38. The Little Orphan The crowded street his playground is, a patch of blue his sky; A puddle in a vacant lot his sea where ships pass by: Poor little orphan boy of five, the city smoke and grime Taint every cooling breeze he gets throughout the summer time; And he is just as your boy is, a child […]...
39. The nymph’s reply to the shepherd If all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd’s tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy love. Time drives the flocks from field to fold When rivers rage and rocks grow cold, And Philomel becometh dumb; The rest complains of cares to come. The […]...
40. Leaves The leaves are falling one and one, Each like a life to me, As over-soonly in the sun They spiral goldenly: So airily and warily They falter free. The leaves are falling two and two, Beneath a baleful sky; So silently the sward they strew, Reluctantly they die. . . Rich crimson leaves, and no […]...