YES, I come from another country, To your world I can never belong. Tinkling guitars cannot please me, I want a wild desolate song. I do not read my verses in drawing-rooms To black-coats and dresses like shrouds. I read my verses to dragons, To the waterfalls and to the clouds. I love like an Arab in the desert Who flings himself on water and drinks, Not like a knight in a picture Who looks at the stars and thinks. I shall not die in a bedroom With a priest and a lawyer beside me. I shall perish in a terrible ravine With a mass of wild ivy to hide me. I shall not go to a Protestant heaven, Open to all in tidy blue skies, But to a place where thief and publican And harlot will cry: "Friend, arise!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A PSALM OF TRAVEL by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE BLISSFUL DAY by ROBERT BURNS TO GIOVANNI DA PISTOIA ON THE PAINTING OF THE SISTINE CHAPEL, 1509 by MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI AN ALPINE DESCENT by SAMUEL ROGERS FROM THE ANTIQUE (1) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI TWELVE SONNETS: 2 by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |