Smoke-Rings
OY Most venerable and learned sir, Tall and true Philosopher, These rings of smoke you blow all day With such deep thought, what sense have they?
ER Small friend, with prayer and meditation I make an image of Creation. And if your mind is working nimble Straightway you’ll recognize a symbol Of the endless and eternal ring Of God, who girdles everything— God, who in His own form and plan Moulds the fugitive life of man. These vaporous toys you watch me make, That shoot ahead, pause, turn and break— Some glide far out like sailing ships,
Some weak ones fail me at my lips. He who ringed His awe in smoke, When He led forth His captive folk, In like manner,
East,
West,
North, and South, Blows us ring-wise from His mouth.
Robert Graves
Другие работы автора
The Naked And The Nude
For me, the naked and the nude (By lexicographers As synonyms that should The same deficiency of Or shelter) stand as wide
She Tells Her Love
She tells her love while half asleep, In the dark hours, With half-words whispered low: As Earth stirs in her winter
Love And Black Magic
To the woods, to the woods is the wizard gone; In his grotto the maiden sits alone She gazes up with a weary smile At the rafter-hanging crocodile, The slowly swinging crocodile Scorn has she of her master’s gear, Cauldron, alembic,...
Corporal Stare
Back from the line one night in June, I gave a dinner at Bethune— Seven courses, the most gorgeous meal Money could buy or batman steal Five hungry lads welcomed the With shouts that nearly cracked the dish; Asparagus came with tender to...
