1 year ago

Poems by Isaac Rosenberg


; ; POEMS BY ISAAC ROSENBERG Unfathomable is my mouth's dream Do not men say ? So secret are my far eyes, "Weaving for iron men profound subtleties. Sorceress they name me And my eyes harden, and they say, " How may those eyes know love If God made her without a heart? " Her tears, her moaning, Her sad profound gaze, The dishevelled lustres of her hair 1 Moon-storm '' like" they say, " These are her subtleties ,1 men say. My husband sleeps, The ghosts of my virgin days do not trouble him His sleep can be over-long, For there is that in my embers Pride and blushes of fire, the outraged blood, His sleep makes me remember. Sleep, hairy hunter ; sleep ! You are not hungry more, Having fed on my deliciousness Your sleep is not adultery to me, 124

; ; ! FRAGMENTS OF "THE UNICORN" For you were wed to a girl And I am a woman. My lonely days are not whips to my honour. [She dries her tears zvith her hair, then fingers the Yours, friend. amulet at her throat.] Nubian [Eagerly.] My amulet ! My amulet [He speaks gravely.] Small comfort is counsel to broken lives But tolerance is medicinal. In all our textures are loosed Pulses straining against strictness Because an easy issue lies therefrom. (Could they but slink past the hands holding whips To hunt them from the human pale Where is the accident to cover ? Spite fears bias.) I am justified at my heart's plea He is justified also. For the eyes of vanity are sleepless—are suspicious. Are mad with imaginings Of secret stabs in words, in looks, in gestures. 125

Redcliffe Voice Issue 6 Summer 2018