Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE FLUTE, by PIERRE LOUIS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE FLUTE, by                    
First Line: For the festival of the hyacinths, he gave me a syrinx
Last Line: The girdle I have lost.
Alternate Author Name(s): Louys, Pierre
Subject(s): Festivals; Flutes; Music & Musicians; Play; Singing & Singers; Fairs; Pageants; Songs


For the festival of the hyacinths, he gave me a syrinx made of smooth-cut
reeds, bound with the white wax that is sweet to my lips as honey.
He is teaching me how to play, as I sit on his knees; but I—somehow I
tremble. He plays after me, so soft that I scarce can hear.
We have not a word to say, so close are we to one another; but our songs
call and answer, and turn by turn our lips close on the flute.
It is late; there is the song of the green frogs, that comes with the
nightfall. My mother will never believe that I have stayed so long to hunt for
the girdle I have lost.





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