Shelley dreamed it. Now the dream decays.
The props crumble; the familiar ways
Are stale with tears trodden underfoot.
The heart's flower withers at the root.
Bury it then, in history's sterile dust.
The slow years shall tame your tawny lust.
Love deceived him; what is there to say
The mind brought you by a better way
To this despair? Lost in the world's wood
You cannot stanch the bright menstrual blood.
The earth sickens; under naked boughs
The frost comes to barb your broken vows.
Is there blessing? Light's peculiar grace
In cold splendour robes this tortured place
For strange marriage. Voices in the wind
Weave a garland where a mortal sinned.
Winter rots you; who is there to blame?
The new grass shall purge you in its flame.
--Song at the Year's Turning, R. S. Thomas, 1955
Comments
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Hey
A won't ya play
Another
Somebody-done-somebody-wrong song
To make me feel at home
While I miss my baby
While I miss my baby-- Another Somebody Done Somebody Wrong Song, B. J. Thomas, 1975
Posted by: Steve Casburn | December 30, 2003 10:21 PM
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"It's just another New Year's Eve
another night like all the rest
it's just another New Year's Eve,
let's make it the best!"Barry says "hi"
Posted by: Harry | December 31, 2003 07:36 PM
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Happy New Year!
Posted by: samantha | January 1, 2004 04:49 PM
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I'm quoting Marlo Thomas next year, wise guy.
Posted by: dw | January 2, 2004 10:37 AM
