Sunday, July 27, 2008


Louis MacNeice - The Sunlight on the Garden

The sunlight on the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold,
When all is told
We cannot beg for pardon.

Our freedom as free lances
Advances towards its end;
The earth compels, upon it
Sonnets and birds descend;
And soon, my friend,
We shall have no time for dances.

The sky was good for flying
Defying the church bells
And every evil iron
Siren and what it tells:
The earth compels,
We are dying, Egypt, dying

And not expecting pardon,
Hardened in heart anew,
But glad to have sat under
Thunder and rain with you,
And grateful too
For sunlight on the garden.

Warm, innit?


Piggy and Tazzy said...

We love it when you do your poetry recitals.

*chin in palms of hands and with a gazing dreamily at garfy*

garfer said...

I need a lectern to declaim off of.

MJ said...

Where's the wet bar at this recital?

garfer said...


KAZ said...

Don't do poetry.

garfer said...

Scientists usually don't.

Einstein may have been a genius, but he wasn't noted for his sonnets.

FirstNations said...

well...there you go. I see. *nods thoughtfully*