If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
......
I want to tell you about time, how strangely
it behaves when you haven't got much of it left:
after 60 say, or 70, when you'd think it would
find itself squeezed so hard that like melting
ice it would surely begin to shrink, each day
looking smaller and smaller - well, it's not so.
The rules change, a single hour can grow huge
and quiet, full of reflections like an old river,
......
The sun descending in the west,
The evening star does shine;
The birds are silent in their nest,
And I must seek for mine.
The moon, like a flower,
In heaven's high bower,
With silent delight
Sits and smiles on the night.
Farewell, green fields and happy groves,
......
Even while I dreamed I prayed that what I saw was only fear and no foretelling,
for I saw the last known landscape destroyed for the sake
of the objective, the soil bludgeoned, the rock blasted.
Those who had wanted to go home would never get there now.
I visited the offices where for the sake of the objective the planners planned
at blank desks set in rows. I visited the loud factories
where the machines were made that would drive ever forward
toward the objective. I saw the forest reduced to stumps and gullies; I saw
the poisoned river, the mountain cast into the valley;
......
and the gulf enters the sea and so forth,
none of them emptying anything,
all of them carrying yesterday
forever on their white tipped backs,
all of them dragging forward tomorrow.
it is the great circulation
of the earth's body, like the blood
of the gods, this river in which the past
is always flowing. every water
is the same water coming round.
......
Soaring Amidst Song
sudden chance meeting
of a cheetah and monkey
then green treetop flight
Happenstance
zebra on the plain
......
it's the golden hour
young duck swimming afternoon
hard rain patters down
the sun yet shines on
duck revelry in late bath
green river frolic
drought endured so long
but blooms and smiles are coming
......
Shimmering waves of satin ripples, all of the black night,
As lustrous moon visits the river, in its pearls of white.
In the fragrance of the hour, stars twinkle for me tonight;
And the water mirrors the sky, as it did in noon daylight!
Just awakened from dim dreams, in my houseboat on the river,
I again greet porcelain moon, making my heart beat quicker.
A missed beat in the somber rhythm, made the dream I prefer,
Of moonlit diamonds and pearls, dancing on a liquid mirror!
It seems the sky has never been bluer,
As I stroll the lovely familiar path;
And bird trills have never been truer,
Than in hazy dawn's golden aftermath.
The clouds float lazy above the treetops,
As the river makes its slow motion tour,
Long admired from houses on the hilltops,
Scintillating sun gleams on waters pure.
......
See the Romancing politician,
I think he's confused at the exposition.
He finds it hard to see the Rose,
Overshadowed by the Green brose.
Who is that walking near the Garden?
I think she'd like to eat the marden.
She is but a Cute Poetess,
Admired as she sits upon a screenwriter.
......