Come, don't I know that, stumbling against shadows, Darkness could never have arrived at light? Do I rate happy hundreds over millions Of happy men? Am I a monster quite? Isn't the Five-Year-Plan a yardstick for me, Its rise and fall my own? But I don't quiz In asking: What shall I do with my thorax And with what's slower than inertia is? The great Soviet gives to the highest passions In these brave days each one its rightful place, Yet vainly leaves one vacant for the poet. When that's not empty, look for danger's face. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S EVE by MALCOLM COWLEY MOUNTAIN FARM by MALCOLM COWLEY ON BRODSKY'S COLLECTED by MICHAEL S. HARPER SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JACOB GODBEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: THE VILLAGE ATHEIST by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |