HOME | DD
irondawn — Response to Yeats' Byzantium
Published: 2005-03-10 03:51:41 +0000 UTC; Views: 178; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 31
Redirect to original
Description
Yeats dolphins that thus do riseStill sink beneath the darkened waves
Still return, after op’ning their eyes,
To the blood and dirt that makes our graves.
The Golden Emperor doth instead
Watch the silver needle leaping
To sew the fabric of the ocean bed
Weaving a pulse with those yet sleeping.
So straddled on the mammal’s back
One may dream for sunset hues,
Break the crested lid, but then attack
The world of fire once again, afraid to lose
Our bitter bottom from which we scramble
Our Byzantium, our mangled start,
And yet our intrepid misplaced ramble
Reflects the skies to the murky heart.
Tear the satin and begin again
Flashing bodies, bouncing thread
Stitching our dreams forever to our pain
Epiphany living where we are dead.
