1 year ago

Poems by Isaac Rosenberg


; : — FRAGMENTS OF "THE UNICORN" LlLITH I think beauty is a bad bargain made of life. Men's iron sinews hew them room in the world And use deceits to gain them trophies : O, when our beauty fails us did we not use Deceits, where were our room in the world Only our room in the world ? Are not the songs and devices of men Moulds they have made after my scarlet mouth, Of cunning words and contours of bronze And viols and gathered air ? They without song have sung me Boldly and shamelessly. I am no wanton, no harlot I have been pleased and smiled my pleasure, I am a wife with a woman's natural ways. Yet through the shadow of the pomegranates Filters a poison day by day, And to a malady turns The blond, the ample music of my heart Inward to eat my heart My thoughts are worms that suck my softness all away. I watch the dumb eyeless hours Drop their tears, then shapeless moaning drop. 123

; ; 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

Redcliffe Voice Issue 6 Summer 2018