Τρίτη, 21 Μαΐου 2013
David Harsent, "The Garden in Sunlight"
Go by white poppies, white tulips, white flags, go by
the white willow arch, go by the apple tree, its full white crop,
go by the pond where white eyed-fish
slide by deeper each day, then out to the lawn, its trackless white
a mirror image of the trackless sky;
but think now: after you've set foot you're on a wish
and a promise, adrift in white's slow creep
away and over the edge, though something takes you straight
to those little spoil-heaps: bone that breaks to ash
under your hand... and you backtrack, hoping for sight
of the house, perhaps, or the garden gate, or the street,
but it's white-on-white however hard you try,
and a hum in the air, white noise, which could be some rash
report of you: figment, divertimento, little white lie.
David Harsent, Night, Faber and Faber, 2011.