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| Poetry by women |
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| A Quoi Bon
Dire Seventeen years ago you said Something that sounded like Good-bye; And everybody thinks that you are dead, But I. So I, as I grow stiff and cold To this and that say Good-bye too; And everybody sees that I am old But you. And one fine morning in a sunny lane Some boy and girl will meet and kiss and swear That nobody can love their way again While over there You will have smiled, I shall have tossed your hair. by Charlotte Mew died 1928, |
| Roses Rising My brunette with the golden eyes, your ivory body, your amber Has left bright reflections in the room Above the garden. The clear midnight sky, under my closed lids, Still shines....I am drunk from so many roses Redder than wine. Leaving their garden, the roses have followed me.... I drink their brief breath, I breathe their life. All of them are here. It's a miracle....The stars have risen, Hastily, across the wide windows Where the melted gold pours. Now, among the roses and the stars, You, here in my room, loosening your robe, And your nakedness glistens Your unspeakable gaze rests on my eyes.... Without stars and without flowers, I dream the impossible In the cold night. by Renee Vivien died 1909 |
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