Softly the waters ripple, The meadows bleed with evening, But uprearing the shaggy head of the beast, Foe unto men, I, Ares, Cracking the weak nose and chin, Twisting off towers in a rage, Break your earth. Leave off calling that God who does not hear. This you cannot reason away: A little sub-devil governs the earth, He is served by folly and madness. I stretched the hides of men on stakes around the cities. I loaded my demon-shoulders With the loose-hinged gates of the old fortresses, I loose this arid war-time, Stow Europe into the knapsack. My butcher's arm is ruddy with your blood, How the sight rejoices me! The enemy flames up in the night bitter with rain, Bombs tear apart your women, The ground is strewn With the scattered Testicles of your sons, Like the seeds of cucumbers. By your child hands not to be turned aside, Death takes hold of your masses. Blood you give for dung, Wealth for woe is flung, The wolves vomit after my feasts are spread, With your carrion they are overfed. Is there a rest From plague and pest? In me there howls a lust To finish you finally. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WORMS AT HEAVEN'S GATE by WALLACE STEVENS ITYLUS by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE SPORTSMEN IN PARADISE by T. P. CAMERON WILSON TO MARY; OCCASIONED BY HER HAVING ENGRAVED ON A SEAL 'FORGET ME NOT' by BERNARD BARTON TO THE SPIRIT OF SONG; APOLOGY by ALICE CARY APRIL FANTASIE by ELLEN MACKAY HUTCHINSON CORTISSOZ |