Nostalgia of old men, That spends itself in the sun Hunting the vanished Sioux Or shooting the buffalo down, Is ground-rent to the Past, Shafts of whose vanquished years Pierce all decadent men To envenom new-born desires. Thus the blind demands of the heart Are thwarted by out-lived lives -- The Wise Man's experience is The wisdom of killing the tribes. How could it be otherwise? All that's alive in the Past Fastens itself on death, Since to live is to change. Turned ghost It is clothed in the future and us -- Not bound, traditional men Remembering ritual words Learned when their meaning was gone. Shamans around a fire Where tired Ghost Dancers sway Pray back the lost buffalo herds -- Words for a vanished age. Then praise the hunters, who Through yesterday's cold camps (Where banked-up spirit-fires, Ice-flamed, will warm no hand) Advance to break new trail Impatient of the meaningless dreams of legend herds, Words of the old men; And praise necessity That frees the past of its snares, Praising the killer heart That makes dead meat of the years. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VIGNETTES OVERSEAS: 9. VILLA SEBELLONI, BELLAGGIO by SARA TEASDALE INSCRIPTION FOR A FOUNTAIN ON A HEATH by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE A SECOND REVIEW OF THE GRAND ARMY [MAY 24, 1865] by FRANCIS BRET HARTE JAFFAR by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT ON THE BIRTH OF HIS SON by SU SHIH |