Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SONG: 1, by GOTTFRIED BENN



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SONG: 1, by            
First Line: Oh, that we were our primal ancestors
Last Line: Would be too intricate, endure too much.


Oh, that we were our primal ancestors.
In a warm bog a little clump of slime.
That from our sap, mute plasm and blind spores,
Cool deaths, calm lives to viewless growth might climb.
A leaf of seaweed or a dune, wind-fed,
Whose stolid base but casual waves would touch.
A sea-gull's wing, a dragon-fly's bright head
Would be too intricate, endure too much.





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