Before you should lose me and cover me forever with loamy earth, seek a pleasant, blessed day, a pleasant day that lasts from morning to dusk: draw me from the bedchambers of anger into your Pentecostal fields, draw me from the scenes of deceitful games and the usual bloodsheds into the thistles, let my troubles gurgle in the sky's dikes, and let me eat wild sorrel, not meat, that day, and cherries and air, and let the birds drum on black bark again; my eardrum wants to rejoice, my eye wants to shine through sealed pheasant eggs, for even though I love your houses that lean against the sky, your lamps that move in the dark, drifting away like motorboats, my life will end there, where the locust leaves lie on the ground, the ant forecasts earthquakes and, dipped in the forest at the village fringe, I may belong to the wild again, I may be the eyeball amplifying the drippings of the sap. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: THE CONVENT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE LIGHTS OF NEW YORK by SARA TEASDALE POLLY by WILLIAM BRIGHTY RANDS SONNET by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE BLUET by W. I. LINCOLN ADAMS SUNRISE TRUMPETS by JOSEPH AUSLANDER URANIA; THE WOMAN IN THE MOON: THE SECOND CANTO, OR FIRST QUARTER by WILLIAM BASSE |