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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
MAGNIFICENT CRY, by HELEN BRYANT
First Line: While craven cynics croak their sour despair
Last Line: And never reaching even the nearest stars.
First Line: While craven cynics croak their sour despair
Last Line: And never reaching even the nearest stars.
While craven cynics croak their sour despair
Divine despair is fighting in Madrid.
Icarian heroes ride the blazing air
Of Cordova and fair Valladolid.
To keep the sun of freedom in their sky
Arrested at its high refulgent noon
Even the children fall, and young men die
Or gasp their lungless anguish to the moon.
The long Atlantic, ever on the march,
Coils on the cliff that thrusts against the sea,
While tiny man, under his turquoise arch
Mouths the magnificent cry of liberty
So briefly uttered through a million wars
And never reaching even the nearest stars.
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