The Poetry of D. H. Lawrence. D. H. Lawrence
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Название: The Poetry of D. H. Lawrence

Автор: D. H. Lawrence

Издательство: Bookwire

Жанр: Языкознание

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isbn: 4064066052133

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СКАЧАТЬ days close up

       The open darkness which then drew us in,

       The dark which then drank up our brimming cup.

       You upon the dry, dead beech-leaves, in the fire of

       night

       Burnt like a sacrifice; you invisible;

       Only the fire of darkness, and the scent of you!

       —And yes, thank God, it still is possible

       The healing days shall close the darkness up

       Wherein we fainted like a smoke or dew.

       Like vapour, dew, or poison. Now, thank God,

       The fire of night is gone, and your face is ash

       Indistinguishable on the grey, chill day;

       The night has burnt us out, at last the good

       Dark fire burns on untroubled, without clash

       Of you upon the dead leaves saying me Yea.

      The Prophet

       Table of Contents

      AH, my darling, when over the purple horizon shall loom

       The shrouded mother of a new idea, men hide their faces,

       Cry out and fend her off, as she seeks her procreant groom,

       Wounding themselves against her, denying her fecund embraces.

      Last Words to Miriam

       Table of Contents

      Yours is the shame and sorrow

       But the disgrace is mine;

       Your love was dark and thorough,

       Mine was the love of the sun for a flower

       He creates with his shine.

       I was diligent to explore you,

       Blossom you stalk by stalk,

       Till my fire of creation bore you

       Shrivelling down in the final dour

       Anguish—then I suffered a balk.

       I knew your pain, and it broke

       My fine, craftsman's nerve;

       Your body quailed at my stroke,

       And my courage failed to give you the last

       Fine torture you did deserve.

       You are shapely, you are adorned,

       But opaque and dull in the flesh,

       Who, had I but pierced with the thorned

       Fire-threshing anguish, were fused and cast

       In a lovely illumined mesh.

       Like a painted window: the best

       Suffering burnt through your flesh,

       Undrossed it and left it blest

       With a quivering sweet wisdom of grace: but now

       Who shall take you afresh?

       Now who will burn you free

       From your body's terrors and dross,

       Since the fire has failed in me?

       What man will stoop in your flesh to plough

       The shrieking cross?

       A mute, nearly beautiful thing

       Is your face, that fills me with shame

       As I see it hardening,

       Warping the perfect image of God,

       And darkening my eternal fame.

      Mystery

       Table of Contents

      Now I am all

       One bowl of kisses,

       Such as the tall

       Slim votaresses

       Of Egypt filled

       For a God's excesses.

       I lift to you

       My bowl of kisses,

       And through the temple's

       Blue recesses

       Cry out to you

       In wild caresses.

       And to my lips'

       Bright crimson rim

       The passion slips,

       And down my slim

       White body drips

       The shining hymn.

       And still before

       The altar I

       Exult the bowl

       Brimful, and cry

       To you to stoop

       And drink, Most High.

       Oh drink me up

       That I may be

       Within your cup

       Like a mystery,

       Like wine that is still

       In ecstasy.

       Glimmering still

       In ecstasy,

       Commingled wines

       Of you and me

       In one fulfil

       The mystery.

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