Robert Graves, "Love without Hope"

Love without hope, as when the young bird-catcher
Swept off his tall hat to the Squire's own daughter,
So let the imprisoned larks escape and fly 
Singing about her head, as she rode by.


Robert Graves

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Mahmoud Darwish, "The Earth Is Closing On Us"

The earth is closing on us, pushing us through the last passage, and we tear off our limbs to pass through. The earth is squeezing us. I wish we were its wheat so we could die and live again. I wish the earth was     our mother So she'd be kind to us. I wish we were pictures on the rocks for our dreams to carry As mirrors. We saw the faces of those to be killed by the last of us in the last defense of the soul. We cried over their children's feast. We saw the faces of those who'll throw our children Out of the windows of the last space. Our star will hang up in mirrors. Where should we go after the last frontiers? Where should the birds fly after the last sky? Where should the plants sleep after the last breath of air? We will write our names with scarlet steam. We will cut off the head of the song to be finished by our flesh. We will die here, here in the last passage. Here and here our blood will plant its olive tree. Mahmoud Darwish
Read more

Louise Gluck, "Before the Storm"

 Rain tomorrow, but tonight the sky is clear, the stars shine. Still, the rain’s coming, maybe enough to drown the seeds. There’s a wind from the sea pushing the clouds; before you see them, you feel the wind. Better look at the fields now, see how they look before they’re flooded. A full moon.  Yesterday a sheep escaped into the woods, and not just any sheep—the ram, the whole future. If we see him again, we’ll see his bones. The grass shudders a little; maybe the wind passed through it.   And the new leaves of the olives shudder in the same way. Mice in the fields.  Where the fox hunts, tomorrow there’ll be blood in the grass. But the storm—the storm will wash it away. In one window, there’s a boy sitting. He’s been sent to bed—too early, in his opinion.  So he sits at the window— Everything is settled now. Where you are now is where you’ll sleep, where you’ll wake up in the morning. The mountain stands like a beacon, to remind the night that the earth exists,...
Read more

Jenkins, "The Speaker"

The speaker points out that we don't really have much of a grasp of things, not only the big things, the important questions, but the small everyday things. "How many steps up to your back yard? What is the name of your district representative? What did you have for breakfast? What is your wife's shoe size? Can you tell me the color of your sweetheart's eyes? Do you remember where you parked the car?" The evidence is overwhelming. Most of us never truly experience life. "We drift through life in daydream, missing the true richness and joy that life has to offer." When the speaker has finished we gather around to sing a few inspirational songs. You and I stand at the back of the group and hum along since we have forgotten most of the words. Louis Jenkins
Read more