If in your mind are hanging colors Drenched with waters of a sleep That might have woven living patterns, Why not weep, why not weep? If through your breast a heat is blowing Like wind across a desert place, Why not lift up pointed fingers And lay them tightly on your face? If sunlight is a sworded pleasure At your throat, and if the blue Of distance makes a cry of you, Or if the night is but a darkness, Why not weep a tear or two? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONG OF THE MOON by CLAUDE MCKAY FACADE: 24. AN OLD WOMAN LAMENTS IN SPRINGTIME by EDITH SITWELL WERENA MY HEART'S LICHT I WAD DEE by GRISELL BAILLIE WOMEN MEN'S SHADOWS by BEN JONSON A DIRGE by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE MIRROR by THEODORE AUBANEL |