Читать книгу Look! We Have Come Through! - D. H. Lawrence - Страница 12

Table of Contents

FIRST PART

UPON her plodding palfrey

With a heavy child at her breast

And Joseph holding the bridle

They mount to the last hill-crest.

Dissatisfied and weary

She sees the blade of the sea

Dividing earth and heaven

In a glitter of ecstasy.

Sudden a dark-faced stranger

With his back to the sun, holds out

His arms; so she lights from her palfrey

And turns her round about.

She has given the child to Joseph,

Gone down to the flashing shore;

And Joseph, shading his eyes with his hand,

Stands watching evermore.

SECOND PART

THE sea in the stones is singing,

A woman binds her hair

With yellow, frail sea-poppies,

That shine as her fingers stir.

While a naked man comes swiftly

Like a spurt of white foam rent

From the crest of a falling breaker,

Over the poppies sent.

He puts his surf-wet fingers

Over her startled eyes,

And asks if she sees the land, the land,

The land of her glad surmise.

THIRD PART

AGAIN in her blue, blue mantle

Riding at Joseph's side,

She says, "I went to Cythera,

And woe betide!"

Her heart is a swinging cradle

That holds the perfect child,

But the shade on her forehead ill becomes

A mother mild.

So on with the slow, mean journey

In the pride of humility;

Till they halt at a cliff on the edge of the land

Over a sullen sea.

While Joseph pitches the sleep-tent

She goes far down to the shore

To where a man in a heaving boat

Waits with a lifted oar.

FOURTH PART

THEY dwelt in a huge, hoarse sea-cave

And looked far down the dark

Where an archway torn and glittering

Shone like a huge sea-spark.

He said: "Do you see the spirits

Crowding the bright doorway?"

He said: "Do you hear them whispering?"

He said: "Do you catch what they say?"

FIFTH PART

THEN Joseph, grey with waiting,

His dark eyes full of pain,

Heard: "I have been to Patmos;

Give me the child again."

Now on with the hopeless journey

Looking bleak ahead she rode,

And the man and the child of no more account

Than the earth the palfrey trode.

Till a beggar spoke to Joseph,

But looked into her eyes;

So she turned, and said to her husband:

"I give, whoever denies."

SIXTH PART

SHE gave on the open heather

Beneath bare judgment stars,

And she dreamed of her children and Joseph,

And the isles, and her men, and her scars.

And she woke to distil the berries

The beggar had gathered at night,

Whence he drew the curious liquors

He held in delight.

He gave her no crown of flowers,

No child and no palfrey slow,

Only led her through harsh, hard places

Where strange winds blow.

She follows his restless wanderings

Till night when, by the fire's red stain,

Her face is bent in the bitter steam

That comes from the flowers of pain.

Then merciless and ruthless

He takes the flame-wild drops

To the town, and tries to sell them

With the market-crops.

So she follows the cruel journey

That ends not anywhere,

And dreams, as she stirs the mixing-pot,

She is brewing hope from despair.

TRIER