01.01.1976
28
Poetry,Contemporary Poetry
Tekst piosenki
History has to live with what was here,
clutching and close to fumbling all we had---
it is so dull and gruesome how we die,
unlike writing, life never finishes.
Abel was finished; death is not remote,
a flash-in-the-pan electrifies the skeptic,
his cows crowding like skulls against high-voltage wire,
his baby crying all night like a new machine.
As in our Bibles, white-faced, predatory,
the beautiful, mist-drunken hunter’s moon ascends---
a child could give it a face: two holes, two holes,
my eyes, my mouth, between them a skull’s no-nose---
O there’s a terrifying innocence in my face
drenched with the silver salvage of the mornfrost.
Tłumaczenie
Brak
Polecani artyści
Najnowsze teksty piosenek
Sprawdź teksty piosenek i albumy dodane w ciągu ostatnich 7 dni
