Irradiations; Sand and Spray — IRRADIATIONS (Parts XIII through XXIV)

As I went through the city by day I saw shadows in sunlight: But in the night I saw everywhere Stars within the darkness.

(A coldly fluting breeze: Dark Pan under the trees.

Low laughter: up the sky A star like a street-lamp left on high.

) As I went through the city by day I was hustled by jostling people.

But in the night, the wind of the darkness Whispered, "Hush!"

to my soul.

XIV

Brown bed of earth, still fresh and warm with love, Now hold me tight: Broad field of sky, where the clouds laughing move, Fill up my pores with light: You trees, now talk to me, chatter and scold or weep, Or drowsing stand: You winds, now play with me, you wild things creep, You boulders, bruise my hand!

I now am yours and you are mine: it matters not What Gods herein I see: You grow in me, I am rooted to this spot, We drink and pass the cup, immortally.

XV

O seeded grass, you army of little men Crawling up the long slope with quivering, quick blades of steel: You who storm millions of graves, tiny green tentacles of Earth, Interlace yourselves tightly over my heart, And do not let me go: For I would lie here forever and watch with one eye The pilgrimaging ants in your dull, savage jungles, The while with the other I see the stiff lines of the slope Break in mid-air, a wave surprisingly arrested, And above them, wavering, dancing, bodiless, colourless, unreal, The long thin lazy fingers of the heat.

XVI

An ant crawling up a grass-blade, And above it, the sky.

I shall remember these when I die: An ant and a butterfly And the sky.

The grass is full of forget-me-nots and poppies: Through the air darts many a fly.

The ant toils up its grass-blade, The careless hours go by.

The grass-blades bow to the feet of the lazy hours: They walk out of the wood, showering shadows on flowers.

Their robes flutter vaguely far off there in the clearing: I see them sometimes from the corner of my eye.

XVII

The wind that drives the fine dry sand Across the strand: The sad wind spinning arabesques With a wrinkled hand.

Labyrinths of shifting sand, The dancing dunes!

I will arise and run with the sand, And gather it greedily in my hand: I will wriggle like a long yellow snake over the beaches.

I will lie curled up, sleeping, And the wind shall chase me Far inland.

My breath is the music of the mad wind;

Shrill piping, stamping of drunken feet, The fluttering, tattered broidery flung Over the dunes' steep escarpments.

The fine dry sand that whistles Down the long low beaches.

XVIII

Blue, brown, blue: sky, sand, sea: I swell to your immensity.

I will run over the endless beach, I will shout to the breaking spray, I will touch the sky with my fingers.

My happiness is like this sand: I let it run out of my hand.

XIX

The clouds pass Over the polished mirror of the sky: The clouds pass, puffs of grey, There is no star.

The clouds pass slowly: Suddenly a disengaged star flashes.

The night is cold and the clouds Roll slowly over the sky.

XX

I dance: I exist in motion: A wind-shaken flower spilling my drops in the sunlight.

I feel the muscles bending, relaxing beneath me;

I direct the rippling sweep of the lines of my body;

Its impact crashes through the thin walls of the atmosphere, I dance.

About me whirls The sombre hall, the gaudy stage, the harsh glare of the footlights, And in the brains of thousands watching Little flames leap quivering to the music of my effort.

I have danced: I have expressed my soul In unbroken rhythm, Sorrow, and flame.

I am tired: I would be extinguished beneath your beating hands.

XXI

Not noisily, but solemnly and pale, In a meditative ecstasy you entered life: As performing some strange rite, to which you alone held the clue.

Child, life did not give rude strength to you;

from the beginning, you would seem to have thrown away, As something cold and cumbersome, that armour men use against death.

You would perhaps look on him face to face, and so learn the secret Whether that face wears oftenest a smile or no?

Strange, old, and silent being, there is something Infinitely vast in your intense tininess: I think you could point out, with a smile, some curious star Far off in the heavens, which no man has seen before.

XXII

The morning is clean and blue and the wind blows up the clouds: Now my thoughts gathered from afar Once again in their patched armour, with rusty plumes and blunted swords, Move out to war.

Smoking our morning pipes we shall ride two and two Through the woods.

For our old cause keeps us together, And our hatred is so precious not death or defeat can break it.

God willing, we shall this day meet that old enemy Who has given us so many a good beating.

Thank God we have a cause worth fighting for, And a cause worth losing and a good song to sing.

XXIII

Torridly the moon rolls upward Against the smooth immensity of midsummer sky, Changeless, inexhaustible: The city beneath is still: Heaven and Earth are clasped together, Momently life grows as careless As the life of the intense stars.

Out of the houses climbing, Fuming up windows, flickering from every roof-top, Rigid on sonorous pinnacles, Silently swirl aloft Love's infinite flamelets.

XXIV

O all you stars up yonder, Do you hear me?

Beautiful, winking, sullen eyes, I am tired of seeing you in the same old places, Night after night in the sky.

I hoped you would dance--but after twenty-six years, I find you are determined to stay as you are.

So I make it known to you, stars clustered or solitary, That I want you to fall into my lap to-night.

Come down, little stars, let me play with you: I will string you like beads, and shovel you together, And wear you in my ears, and scatter you over people-- And toss you back, like apples, if I choose.