add sestina
This commit is contained in:
parent
26d6a26934
commit
c9209201ed
|
@ -0,0 +1,60 @@
|
|||
+++
|
||||
title = "A Sestina"
|
||||
description = "Poem in six stanzas and an envoi"
|
||||
|
||||
[taxonomies]
|
||||
categories = ["blog"]
|
||||
tags = ["art", "poems"]
|
||||
|
||||
[extra]
|
||||
zenn_applause = true
|
||||
+++
|
||||
|
||||
## By Satya Johnson
|
||||
|
||||
Lying in bed, imagining all the wonderful creations
|
||||
To come, crying tears inside because they won’t, I can’t fight,
|
||||
I am too weak even though I can be strong and eat the fruit
|
||||
Of labour I won’t, I will not though I want, though I must walk,
|
||||
But on the outside, where I can see, I don’t yet drink
|
||||
Those tears, those bitter tears, not till I’ve pushed through the thick
|
||||
|
||||
And out into the light and the others where I can’t tell if it’s still thick
|
||||
Or if I’m stronger, and maybe I really can make those creations
|
||||
And in a glass of hot blessed pride offer a drink
|
||||
To all those who I want to challenge, and then it will be their fight,
|
||||
But no, that is a dream, life is moving fast and I must walk
|
||||
And then I dream that life will bear my fruit,
|
||||
And I am back. But this time it is trivial and I plant small trees, that will bear fruit
|
||||
That is hard and true, but small, so small, and does little to penetrate the thick,
|
||||
Little indeed, so onward but not forward I must walk,
|
||||
Until like Alice I look back and have come so far but I have to run
|
||||
faster to get to any creations,
|
||||
Faster, always faster and never fast enough, I have to keep up the
|
||||
fight
|
||||
So at the end of the day I can lean back and take a drink
|
||||
|
||||
But not too deep, I must be wary of drowning, know when to pull away the drink,
|
||||
For that, more than dreams, will bear the real, cold fruit
|
||||
In that small ugly life we fight without valor or honor, our fight
|
||||
Is dirty and small and slow and bare, a fight to clear the thick,
|
||||
To push it away, and leave in its stead full lush creations
|
||||
But that is a dream, and instead I keep on my feet and walk.
|
||||
|
||||
Must that be? Do I have to give in, to just let go and walk?
|
||||
It brings relief but sadness too, and is not truly resolved — instead I will drink
|
||||
Deeply without drowning, and someday _I will_ realize my dreams, see my creations,
|
||||
And they will, I believe, bear rich lush fruit, thick fruit,
|
||||
But I lie, I do not believe, and hampered by self-imposed limits stumble and rush to the heavy thick
|
||||
I didn’t see it coming, but I will get up again and fight again, that valorous fight, _I will fight_ —
|
||||
|
||||
Lying in bed, crying tears inside because I can’t fight,
|
||||
I will not be strong and eat and drink, though I must walk,
|
||||
Walk crying bitter tears which make me blind to see them, then pushing through the thick
|
||||
And out to my cup of tears which I now drink,
|
||||
And out to my tall trees bearing their gorgeous fruit,
|
||||
And I do not only imagine all the wonderful creations.
|
||||
|
||||
But here remains the thick and still I must fight
|
||||
For my creations to make them real, and I keep on the walk
|
||||
All the way back home, to lean back and take a drink made from the aged sweet juices of my fruit.
|
Loading…
Reference in New Issue