And love hung still as crystal over the bed
And filled the corners of the enormous room;
the boom of dawn that left her sleeping, showing
The flowers mirrored in the mahogany table.
O my love, if only I were able
To protect this hour of quiet after passion,
Not ration happiness but keep this door for ever
Closed on the world, its own world closed within it.
But dawn's waves trouble with the bubbling minute,
the names of books come clear upon their shelves,
the reason delves for duty and you will wake
With a start and go on living on your own.
The first train passes and the windows groan,
Voices will hector and your voice become
A drum in tune with theirs, which all last night
Like sap that fingered through a hungry tree
Asserted our one night's identity.
Louis Macneice
Why marry?
About Bob Dylan
4 days ago
6 comments:
My dear Garfer, how else do you think that those regular pairs of 'ripe' work underwear will find their way fae the floor of the bedroom to the wash basket?
Bottles of beer will not open the fridge door themselves. And for the love of all things holy, who else can you send to the door for the kerry-oot when the fitba is on the box?
I never was one for poetry - though this is good.
When are you going to have another good rant against Guardian readers or lesbians?
One marries to inspire poets to write poetry about the impossibility of happiness.
How about a rant against Guardian-reading lesbians?
Having largely been alone for my adult life so far (falsely supposed by friends to be living some sort of wild louche lifestyle owing to my outgoing personality), must say that every day awaking with the love of my life would be miraculous - I would never take him for granted & would daily treat him like a prince, married or no.
Nice poem though.
why marry? because its pretty exhausting to go on the pull age 72with no teeth and smelling of pee. Just settle for someone say I.
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