You are going to ask: and where are the lilacs?
and the poppy-petalled metaphysics?
and the rain repeatedly spattering
its words and drilling them full
of apertures and birds?
I'll tell you all the news.
I lived in a suburb,
a suburb of Madrid, with bells,
and clocks, and trees.
A little soul scarce fledged for earth
Takes wing with heaven again for goal
Even while we hailed as fresh from birth
A little soul.
Our thoughts ring sad as bells that toll,
Not knowing beyond this blind world's girth
What things are writ in heaven's full scroll.
Our fruitfulness is there but dearth,
January brings the snow,
makes our feet and fingers glow.
February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.
March brings breezes loud and shrill,
stirs the dancing daffodil.
April brings the primrose sweet,
In the wild soft summer darkness
How many and many a night we two together
Sat in the park and watched the Hudson
Wearing her lights like golden spangles
Glinting on black satin.
The rail along the curving pathway
Was low in a happy place to let us cross,
And down the hill a tree that dripped with bloom
While your kisses and the flowers,
Tenderly, day that I have loved, I close your eyes,
And smooth your quiet brow, and fold your thin dead hands.
The grey veils of the half-light deepen; colour dies.
I bear you, a light burden, to the shrouded sands,
Where lies your waiting boat, by wreaths of the sea's making
Mist-garlanded, with all grey weeds of the water crowned.
There you'll be laid, past fear of sleep or hope of waking;
And over the unmoving sea, without a sound,
Tanagers in green trees, swinging,
Scarlet night of pearl moon, singing,
A day's come of age, romance peak,
Kitty roams the wall, dark mystique,
Blooms lustrous, radiance clinging!
It was jazzy June and green butterflies, filled the air with magic.
Then butterscotch days were long, until the purple sunset panic.
Sunny June, when music festivals, were staged in shady parks;
While in treetops purple martins, warbled their musical remarks.
Late springtime everywhere, and sandy beaches were crowded;
And it seemed such a long spell, since skies had been clouded!
In the dreamy season of youth, blossoms preened everywhere,
glowing fragrant June
so lustrous on black waters
rare are golden nights
most green croaking frogs
slow fireflies at hide and seek
sweet summer midnight
in dreams I feel moon's caress
Pink skies will turn shimmery blue,
And reveal where the redbird flew,
As sunbeams sparkle on silvery dew,
At the golden rosy dawn, fully new!
Exotic birds will all sing in tune,
As butterflies seek the blooms of June,
And we'll make plans for the afternoon,
On the other side of alabaster moon!
My window-pane is starred with frost,
The world is bitter cold to-night,
The moon is cruel, and the wind
Is like a two-edged sword to smite.
God pity all the homeless ones,
The beggars pacing to and fro.
God pity all the poor to-night
Who walk the lamp-lit streets of snow.