Snow
The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was
Spawning snow and pink roses against it
Soundlessly collateral and incompatible:
World is suddener than we fancy it.
World is crazier and more of it than we think,
Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion
A tangerine and spit the pips and feel
The drunkenness of things being various.
And the fire flames with a bubbling sound for world
Is more spiteful and gay than one supposes -
On the tongue on the eyes on the ears in the palms of one's hands -
There is more than glass between the snow and the huge roses.
Monday, 28 March 2011
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4 comments:
i like, esp "feel the drunkeness of things being various"
i'm glad you liked that. i'm loving this poem and moreso the more i read it. i feel the nedd to making some time, giving macneice a proper read and becoming something of an evangelist for him!
Stunning swiss. I need to find more MacNeice too now!
you won't go wrong!
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