Carol on Corfu I, per se I,... «Collected Poems»

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  robot

  1 июня 2017

  В друзья

  Carol on Corfu I, per se I, I sing on. Let flesh falter, or let bone break Break, yet the salt of a poem holds on, Even in empty weather When beak and feather have done.

  I am such fiddle-glib strokes, As play on the nerves, glance the bare bone With the madman's verve I quicken, Leaven and liven body's prime carbon, I, per se I, alone.

  This is my medicine: trees speak and doves Talk, woods walk: in the pith of the planet Is undertone, overtone, status of music: God Opens each fent, scent, memory, aftermath In the sky and the sod.

  O per se O, I sing on. Never tongue falters or love lessens, Lessens. The salt of the poem lives on Like this carol of empty weather Now feather and beak have gone.

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