Caricamento in corso...

The Earth Breath

FROM the cool and dark-lipped furrows
   Breathes a dim delight
Through the woodland’s purple plumage
   To the diamond night.
Aureoles of joy encircle
   Every blade of grass
Where the dew-fed creatures silent
   And enraptured pass.
And the restless ploughman pauses,
   Turns and, wondering,
Deep beneath his rustic habit
   Finds himself a king;
For a fiery moment looking
   With the eyes of God
Over fields a slave at morning
   Bowed him to the sod.
Blind and dense with revelation
   Every moment flies,
And unto the Mighty Mother,
   Gay, eternal, rise
All the hopes we hold, the gladness,
   Dreams of things to be.
One of all thy generations,
   Mother, hails to thee.
Hail, and hail, and hail for ever,
   Though I turn again
From thy joy unto the human
   Vestiture of pain.
I, thy child who went forth radiant
   In the golden prime,
Find thee still the mother-hearted
   Through my night in time;
Find in thee the old enchantment
   There behind the veil
Where the gods, my brothers, linger.
   Hail, forever, hail!
Altre opere di George William Russell...



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