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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

A CRABBED SONG OF SPRING, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Spring, I am tired!
Last Line: Spring, we are old.
Subject(s): Spring


Spring, I am tired!
Your brisk young buds and vigorous green
And all the bustle of your clouds and winds,
But add to my great weariness.
Ask the long grass how heavy falls my foot
Across the excitement of the meadow!

I pray you, still your restless sprigs and sprays,
And dancing leaves,
Trying their newest steps on every bough and bush,
And tell the birds to call their mates
More modestly!

My eyes are dizzy with the noon's hot gold
And sudden purple,
And my ears ring with shouting yellow, pink and white,
And singing blue,
And green and green and green!

Spring, I am sad
And you but make me sadder:
I walk alone in all this busy joy,
This self-absorption.
There is a heartlessness about your birds and flowers!
They sip among themselves the moist, sweet air
Fermented with a thousand scents,
I think all Nature puts her lips
Against the sky and earth,
Mixes and makes of them her beverage immortal --
But my soul stands before an empty cup.

Almost I would unmask the mockery of this rejuvenation,
This yearly comedy of youth!
Spring, sitting there in your green clothes,
You are a gray-haired woman!
You are as old as I,
As sad, as tired.

But you are brave and beautiful,
And I will sit with you a while
And talk with you;
Together we will watch this budding pageantry
That dreams of fullest flower,
Of passionate and perfect reconstruction --
Of love.

But you and I will dream no more
I think.
Spring, we are old.





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