| Song of a Man Who Has Come Through |
| Not I, not I, but the wind that blows through me! | |
| A fine wind is blowing the new direction of Time. | |
| If only I let it bear me, carry me, if only it carry me! | |
| If only I am sensitive, subtle, oh, delicate, a winged gift! | |
| 5 | If only, most lovely of all, I yield myself and am borrowed |
| By the fine, fine wind that takes its course through the chaos of the world | |
| Like a fine, an exquisite chisel, a wedge-blade inserted; | |
| If only I am keen and hard like the sheer tip of a wedge | |
| Driven by invisible blows, | |
| 10 | The rock will split, we shall come at the wonder, we shall find the Hesperides. |
| Oh, for the wonder that bubbles into my soul, | |
| I would be a good fountain, a good well-head, | |
| Would blur no whisper, spoil no expression. | |
| What is the knocking? | |
| 15 | What is the knocking at the door in the night? |
| It is somebody wants to do us harm. | |
| No, no, it is the three strange angels. | |
| Admit them, admit them This poem is by D.H. Lawrence. I read it today, this first day of 2008. It is one of Lawrence's more optimistic poems. He moaned much about the conditions of his own time, and warned against a mechanical world. He whined a lot about the effects of Money & Progress. I wonder what he would write today about Progress in our electronic and computerized world. Would it be angels knocking? IT'S THE OIL STUPID! |
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