加载中…【风盛开的午后：诗歌】
(2013-04-06 13:51:40)
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Morning Glories
- Distant as a dream's flight,
- Lay an eerie plain,
- Where the weary moonlight
- Swooned into a moan;
- Wailing after dead seed
- Came the ghost of rain.
- There was I, a wild weed,
- Growing all alone.
- Like a doubted story,
- Came the thought of day;
- God and all His glory
- Lingered otherwhere,
- Busy with the spring thrill
- Many dreams away.
- Could a little weed's will
- Fling so far a prayer?
- Lo, the sudden wonder!
- (Is a prayer so fleet?)
- From the desert under,
- Morning glories grew;
- Twined me, bound me
- With caressing feet;
- Wove song'round me --
- Pink, white blue!
- As a fog is rifted
- By the eager breeze,
- Darkness broke and lifted,
- Tossing like a sea!
- Lo, the dawn was flowering
- Through the maple trees!
- Oh, and you were showering
- Kisses over me!
- Smart Set
John G. Neihardt
Lest I Learn
- Lest I learn, with clearer sight,
- Such beauty cannot be --
- Tie a bandage, pull it tight,
- Blind me, I would not see!
- Lest I learn, with clearer will,
- Such a wonder cannot be --
- Oh, kiss me nearer, nearer still,
- And make a fool of me!
- Smart Set
Witter Bynner
Later
- I went to the place where my youth took birth
- In the slow, round kiss of an amorous girl,
- When sonnets and lace were the measure of earth,
- When death was forgotten and life was a whirl.
- I addled my brain with the memories flown
- Of Heatherby Kaiser and Muriel Moore;
- I thought of the women and men I had known, --
- The glittering eyes and the bolt on the door --
- The warm, gray walls and the odor of must,
- The wine, the piano, the glistening feet,
- The eyes grown hazy like shadows at dusk,
- The minstreling music that rose from the street.
- I though of Elise with her soft, gold hair;
- And the buttonhook hung from the chandelier.
- The spirit of passionate youth had been here --
- But somehow the dream of it wasn't quite clear,
- For the place had been altered; the walls were red,
- And the woodword was stained with a desolate brown;
- And they told me a woman had lain in the bed
- For a year and a half with the curtains down.
- Smart Set
William Huntington Wright
The Old Maid
- I saw her in a Broadway car,
- The woman I might grow to be;
- I felt my lover look at her
- And then turn suddenly to me.
- Her hair was dull and drew no light,
- And yet its color was as mine;
- Her eyes were strangely like my eyes,
- Tho' love had never made them shine.
- Her body was a thing grown thin,
- Hungry for love that never came;
- Her soul was frozen in the dark,
- Unwarmed forever by love's flame.
- I felt my lover look at her
- And then turn suddenly to me --
- His eyes were magic to defy
- The woman I shall never be.
- The Forum
Sara Teasdale
Departure
- The twilight is starred,
- The dawn has arisen;
- Light breaks from the east
- And Song from her prison.
- Faint odors and sounds
- The west-wind discloses
- Of laughter and birds,
- Of singing and roses.
- It is time to be gone --
- Day scatters the gloom;
- But here at my side,
- But still in the room,
- Like the angel of life,
- Too kind to depart,
- You hang at my lips,
- You hang at my heart!
- The Forum
-
John Hall Wheelock
An Adieu
- Sorrow, quit me for a while!
- Wintry days are over;
- Hope again, with April smile,
- Violets sows and clover.
- Pleasure follows in her path,
- Love itself flies after,
- And the brook a music hath
- Sweet as childhood's laughter.
- Not a bird upon the bough
- Can repress its rapture,
- Not a bud that blossoms now
- But doth beauty capture.
- Sorrow, thou art Winter's mate,
- Spring cannot regret thee;
- Yet, ah, yet -- my friend of late --
- I shall not forget thee!
- Harper's
-
Florence Earle Coates
Heart's Tide
- I thought I had forgotten you,
- So far apart our lives were thrust!
- 'Twas only as the earth forgets
- The seed the sower left in trust.
- 'Twas only as the creeks forget
- The tides that left their hollows dry;
- Or as the home-bound ship forgets
- Streamers of seaweed drifting by.
- My heart is earth that keeps untold
- The secret of the seeds that sleep.
- My thoughts are chalices of sand;
- Your memory floods them and I weep.
- Harper's
Ethel M. Hewitt
Waiting
- I thought my heart would break
- Because the Spring was slow.
- I said, "How long young April sleeps
- Beneath the snow!"
- But when at last she came
- And buds broke in the dew,
- I dreamed of my lost love,
- And my heart broke, too!
- Harper's
Charles Hanson Towne
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