Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE GRAPES OF MALAGA, by FLORENCE WENNER



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE GRAPES OF MALAGA, by                    
First Line: In spain the grapes of malaga
Last Line: To hell-draughts have been ground!
Subject(s): Grapes; Malaga, Spain


In Spain the grapes of Malaga
Grow on the sunny hills;
Pale, firm-fleshed grapes of Malaga
From which aroma spills.
Men pressed the grapes of Malaga
To drink white wine aglow!
But all that comes from Malaga
Now has a crimson flow.
Men tread the firm-fleshed fruit of earth,
Turning its white to red;
They crush away its bead of mirth
Fermenting death instead!
They use a cup the gods would drain
To drown the dream of Spain.
Better the grapes of Malaga
Unharvested had lain;
Better the wine of Malaga
Thus spilt on battle's mound
Flowed still in vines of Malaga
Beyond the battle's sound;
For firm-fleshed grapes of Malaga,
The sweet pale grapes of Malaga,
To hell-draughts have been ground!





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