Sunday, May 17, 2009

Blogging has been sporadic ...

... for a number of reasons, among them my having to restore a semblance of order to my home office and ever-growing number of books. I will have more to say this anon. For now I just want to mention that while putting some books away I happened upon Edith Sitwell's Collected Poems and pausing to look through it I came at once upon this, the opening lines of 'Lo, this is she that was the world's desire':

In the green winter night
That is dark as the cypress bough, the pine,
The fig-tree and the vine
When our long sun into the dark had set
And made but winter branches of his rays,
The heart, a ghost,
Said to our life farewell—the shadow leaves
The body when our long dark sun has gone ...
I think these lines are wonderful. It was a blessing to have come upon them as I did.

1 comment:

  1. Sitwell is something, isn't she? Her collected works are full of little gems. I'm not sure any other modern poet cares so much about sound even, in some cases, when it comes at the expense of sense.