Other formats

    Adobe Portable Document Format file (facsimile images)   TEI XML file   ePub eBook file  


    mail icontwitter iconBlogspot iconrss icon

Experiment 9

Requiem For Lost Time

Requiem For Lost Time

O let no more the buried soldiers rise
From the half land where ghosts come
Between the lowered eyelids and the eyes.

Their eyeballs are not seeds, nor their flesh fruit
Adding its richness to continuing soil,
Their house is deserts—no root
Contains the shift of sand, and no built wall,

Unless each day turn stone to cover them
And every stone rest heavy where it lies
So that in night no nonesuch victims come.

I hoard these temporal stones of winter ice,
Time's diamonds, kept as cairnstones for their grave,
Both as memorial of hopeless loss
And lest the fluid earth entirely leave

Their bonelocked restlessness. No thing was won
Which they were promised for their time of death.
O let no more the buried soldiers come.