(10) THE SWAN
1 (a) I study out a dark similitude: Her image fades, yet does not disappear — Must I stay tangled in that lucky hair? Is there no way out of that coursing blood? A dry soul’s wisest. O, I am not dry! My darling does what I could never do: She sighs me white, a socrates of snow.
(b) We think too long in terms of what to be; I live, alive and certain as a bull; A casual man, I keep my casual word.
2 (a) She turns, as if to go, Half-bird, half-animal. The wind dies on the hill. Love’s all. Love is all I know.
3 (a) A doe drinks by a stream, A doe and its fawn. When I follow after them, The grass changes to stone.
Comments
Post a Comment