Poetry Explorer


Classic and Contemporary Poetry


NUN SNOW by ALFRED FRANCIS KREYMBORG

First Line: IS SHE / THOUGHTLESS OF LIFE
Last Line: DROPPING THE CURTAIN SO SOON!
Subject(s): EARTH; MOON; WORLD;

@3Earth Voice@1
Is she
thoughtless of life,
a lover of imminent death,
Nun Snow
touching her strings of white beads?
Is it her unseen hands
which urge the beads to tremble?
Does Nun Snow,
aware of the death she must die alone,
away from the nuns
of the green beads,
of the ochre and brown,
of the purple and black --
does she improvise
along those soundless strings
in the worldly hope
that the answering, friendly tune,
the faithful, folk-like miracle,
will shine in a moment or two?

@3Moon Voice@1
Or peradventure,
are the beads merely wayward,
on an evening so soft,
and One Wind
is so gentle a mesmerist
as he draws them and her with his hand?

@3Earth Voice@1
Was it Full Moon,
who contrives tales of this order,
and himself loves the heroine,
Nun Snow --

@3Wind Voice@1
Do you see his beads courting hers?
lascivious monk! --

@3Earth Voice@1
Was it Full Moon,
slyly innocent of guile,
propounder of sorrowless whimseys,
who breathed that suspicion?
Is it One Wind,
the wily, scholarly pedant --
is it he who retorts --

@3Wind Voice@1
Like olden allegros
in olden sonatas,
all tales have two themes,
@3she is beautiful
he is beautiful@1,
with the traditional movement,
@3their beads court each other@1,
revealing a cadence as fatally true
as the sum which follows a one-plus-one --
so, why inquire further?
Nay, inquire further,
deduce it your fashion!
Nun Snow,
as you say,
touches her strings of white beads,
Full Moon,
let you add,
his lute of yellow strings;
and, Our Night
is square, nay,
Our Night
is round, nay,
Our Night
is a blue balcony --
and therewith close your inquisition!

@3Earth Voice@1
Who urged the beads to tremble?
They're still now!
Fallen, or cast over me!
Nun, Moon and Wind are gone!
Are they betraying her? --

@3Moon Voice@1
Ask Our Night --
@3Earth Voice@1
Did the miracle appear? --

@3Moon Voice@1
Ask Our Night,
merely a child on a balcony,
letting down her hair and
black beads, a glissando --
ask her what she means,
dropping the curtain so soon!



Home: PoetryExplorer.net