THE NEW POETRY
THE NEW POETRY
THE NEW POETRY
THE NEW POETRY
Conrad Aiken
Music I heard with you was more than music,And bread I broke with you was more than bread.Now that I am without you, all is desolate,All that was once so beautiful is dead.Your hands once touched this table and this silver,And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.These things do not remember you, beloved:And yet your touch upon them will not pass.For it was in my heart you moved among them,And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes.And in my heart they will remember always:They knew you once, O beautiful and wise!
Music I heard with you was more than music,And bread I broke with you was more than bread.Now that I am without you, all is desolate,All that was once so beautiful is dead.Your hands once touched this table and this silver,And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.These things do not remember you, beloved:And yet your touch upon them will not pass.For it was in my heart you moved among them,And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes.And in my heart they will remember always:They knew you once, O beautiful and wise!
Music I heard with you was more than music,And bread I broke with you was more than bread.Now that I am without you, all is desolate,All that was once so beautiful is dead.
Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread.
Now that I am without you, all is desolate,
All that was once so beautiful is dead.
Your hands once touched this table and this silver,And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.These things do not remember you, beloved:And yet your touch upon them will not pass.
Your hands once touched this table and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, beloved:
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.
For it was in my heart you moved among them,And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes.And in my heart they will remember always:They knew you once, O beautiful and wise!
For it was in my heart you moved among them,
And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes.
And in my heart they will remember always:
They knew you once, O beautiful and wise!
Dead Cleopatra lies in a crystal casket,Wrapped and spiced by the cunningest of hands.Around her neck they have put a golden necklaceHer tatbebs, it is said, are worn with sands.Dead Cleopatra was once revered in Egypt—Warm-eyed she was, this princess of the south.Now she is very old and dry and faded,With black bitumen they have sealed up her mouth.Grave-robbers pulled the gold rings from her fingers,Despite the holy symbols across her breast;They scared the bats that quietly whirled above her.Poor lady! she would have been long since at restIf she had not been wrapped and spiced so shrewdly,Preserved, obscene, to mock black flights of years.What would her lover have said, had he foreseen it?Had he been moved to ecstasy, or tears?O sweet clean earth from whom the green blade cometh!—When we are dead, my best-beloved and I,Close well above us that we may rest forever,Sending up grass and blossoms to the sky.
Dead Cleopatra lies in a crystal casket,Wrapped and spiced by the cunningest of hands.Around her neck they have put a golden necklaceHer tatbebs, it is said, are worn with sands.Dead Cleopatra was once revered in Egypt—Warm-eyed she was, this princess of the south.Now she is very old and dry and faded,With black bitumen they have sealed up her mouth.Grave-robbers pulled the gold rings from her fingers,Despite the holy symbols across her breast;They scared the bats that quietly whirled above her.Poor lady! she would have been long since at restIf she had not been wrapped and spiced so shrewdly,Preserved, obscene, to mock black flights of years.What would her lover have said, had he foreseen it?Had he been moved to ecstasy, or tears?O sweet clean earth from whom the green blade cometh!—When we are dead, my best-beloved and I,Close well above us that we may rest forever,Sending up grass and blossoms to the sky.
Dead Cleopatra lies in a crystal casket,Wrapped and spiced by the cunningest of hands.Around her neck they have put a golden necklaceHer tatbebs, it is said, are worn with sands.
Dead Cleopatra lies in a crystal casket,
Wrapped and spiced by the cunningest of hands.
Around her neck they have put a golden necklace
Her tatbebs, it is said, are worn with sands.
Dead Cleopatra was once revered in Egypt—Warm-eyed she was, this princess of the south.Now she is very old and dry and faded,With black bitumen they have sealed up her mouth.
Dead Cleopatra was once revered in Egypt—
Warm-eyed she was, this princess of the south.
Now she is very old and dry and faded,
With black bitumen they have sealed up her mouth.
Grave-robbers pulled the gold rings from her fingers,Despite the holy symbols across her breast;They scared the bats that quietly whirled above her.Poor lady! she would have been long since at rest
Grave-robbers pulled the gold rings from her fingers,
Despite the holy symbols across her breast;
They scared the bats that quietly whirled above her.
Poor lady! she would have been long since at rest
If she had not been wrapped and spiced so shrewdly,Preserved, obscene, to mock black flights of years.What would her lover have said, had he foreseen it?Had he been moved to ecstasy, or tears?
If she had not been wrapped and spiced so shrewdly,
Preserved, obscene, to mock black flights of years.
What would her lover have said, had he foreseen it?
Had he been moved to ecstasy, or tears?
O sweet clean earth from whom the green blade cometh!—When we are dead, my best-beloved and I,Close well above us that we may rest forever,Sending up grass and blossoms to the sky.
O sweet clean earth from whom the green blade cometh!—
When we are dead, my best-beloved and I,
Close well above us that we may rest forever,
Sending up grass and blossoms to the sky.
Behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel,Flitting out of the shadow into the spotlight,And into the shadow again, without a whisper!—Firefly’s my name, I am evanescent.Firefly’s your name. You are evanescent.But I follow you as remorselessly as darkness,And shut you in and enclose you, at last, and always,Till you are lost, as a voice is lost in silence.Till I am lost, as a voice is lost in silence....Are you the one who would close so cool about me?My fire sheds into and through you and beyond you:How can your fingers hold me? I am elusive.How can my fingers hold you? You are elusive?Yes, you are flame; but I surround and love you,Always extend beyond you, cool, eternal,To take you into my heart’s great void of silence.You shut me into your heart’s great void of silence....O sweet and soothing end for a life of whirling!Now I am still, whose life was mazed with motion.Now I sink into you, for love of sleep.
Behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel,Flitting out of the shadow into the spotlight,And into the shadow again, without a whisper!—Firefly’s my name, I am evanescent.Firefly’s your name. You are evanescent.But I follow you as remorselessly as darkness,And shut you in and enclose you, at last, and always,Till you are lost, as a voice is lost in silence.Till I am lost, as a voice is lost in silence....Are you the one who would close so cool about me?My fire sheds into and through you and beyond you:How can your fingers hold me? I am elusive.How can my fingers hold you? You are elusive?Yes, you are flame; but I surround and love you,Always extend beyond you, cool, eternal,To take you into my heart’s great void of silence.You shut me into your heart’s great void of silence....O sweet and soothing end for a life of whirling!Now I am still, whose life was mazed with motion.Now I sink into you, for love of sleep.
Behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel,Flitting out of the shadow into the spotlight,And into the shadow again, without a whisper!—Firefly’s my name, I am evanescent.
Behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel,
Flitting out of the shadow into the spotlight,
And into the shadow again, without a whisper!—
Firefly’s my name, I am evanescent.
Firefly’s your name. You are evanescent.But I follow you as remorselessly as darkness,And shut you in and enclose you, at last, and always,Till you are lost, as a voice is lost in silence.
Firefly’s your name. You are evanescent.
But I follow you as remorselessly as darkness,
And shut you in and enclose you, at last, and always,
Till you are lost, as a voice is lost in silence.
Till I am lost, as a voice is lost in silence....Are you the one who would close so cool about me?My fire sheds into and through you and beyond you:How can your fingers hold me? I am elusive.
Till I am lost, as a voice is lost in silence....
Are you the one who would close so cool about me?
My fire sheds into and through you and beyond you:
How can your fingers hold me? I am elusive.
How can my fingers hold you? You are elusive?Yes, you are flame; but I surround and love you,Always extend beyond you, cool, eternal,To take you into my heart’s great void of silence.
How can my fingers hold you? You are elusive?
Yes, you are flame; but I surround and love you,
Always extend beyond you, cool, eternal,
To take you into my heart’s great void of silence.
You shut me into your heart’s great void of silence....O sweet and soothing end for a life of whirling!Now I am still, whose life was mazed with motion.Now I sink into you, for love of sleep.
You shut me into your heart’s great void of silence....
O sweet and soothing end for a life of whirling!
Now I am still, whose life was mazed with motion.
Now I sink into you, for love of sleep.