--Such, finely captured by this quiet generation,
as now stand dim world astride:
blind horrors both, colossal things, uncaring gods.
The many nobilities meant as our inheritance
hard-won by earnest ancestors, lie ruined in the yards
squandered by this indoor age,
this petty blemish on our knee-skinned history.
(Thus the dishonest poet proclaims
perched within his well-worn cage).
October 2012
No comments:
Post a Comment