ORCHARD
by: Hilda Doolittle (1886-1961)
- SAW the first pear
- as it fell--
- the honey-seeking, golden-banded,
- the yellow swarm
- was not more fleet than I,
- (spare us from loveliness)
- and I fell prostrate
- crying:
- you have flayed us
- with your blossoms,
- spare us the beauty
- of fruit-trees.
-
- The honey-seeking
- paused not,
- the air thundered their song,
- and I alone was prostrate.
-
- O rough hewn
- god of the orchard,
- I bring you an offering--
- do you, alone unbeautiful,
- son of the god,
- spare us from loveliness:
-
- these fallen hazel-nuts,
- stripped late of their green sheaths,
- grapes, red-purple,
- their berries
- dripping with wine,
- pomegranates already broken,
- and shrunken figs
- and quinces untouched,
- I bring you as offering.
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POEMS BY HILDA DOOLITTLE |
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