lördag, maj 09, 2009


Away, away, it is the air
That stirs among the withered leaves;
Away, away, it is not there,
Go, hunt among the harvest-sheaves.
There is a bed in shape as plain
As from a hare or lion's lair
It is the bed where we have lain
In anguish and despair.

Away and take the eagle's eye,
The tyger's smell,
Ears that can hear the agonies
And murmurings of hell;
And when you there have stood
By that same bed of pain,
The groans are gone, the tears remain.
Then tell me if the thing be clear,
The difference betwixt a tear
Of water and of blood.*

-- William Wordsworth

*) diktfragment ur Wordsworths Alfoxden-anteckningar. A. S. Byatt, Unruly Times, sid. 20-21. Är detta en beskriving av ett incestuöst förhållande? undrar Byatt.

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