GIORNO DEI MORTI
by: D.H. Lawrence (1885-1930)
- LONG the
avenue of cypresses,
- All in their scarlet cloaks, and surplices
- Of linen, go the chaunting choristers,
- The priests in gold and black, the villagers . . .
- And all along the path to the cemetery
- The round dark heads of men crowd silently,
- And black-scarved faces of women-folk wistfully
- Watch at the banner of death, and the mystery.
- And at the foot of a grave a father stands
- With sunken head and forgotten, folded hands;
- And at the foot of a grave a mother kneels
- With pale shut face, nor either hears nor feels
- The coming of the chaunting choristers
- Between the avenue of cypresses,
- The silence of the many villagers,
- The candle-flames beside the surplices.
POEMS BY D.H. LAWRENCE
'Giorno Dei Morti' is reprinted
from An Anthology of Modern Verse. Ed. A. Methuen. London:
Methuen & Co., 1921.