1 year ago

Poems by Isaac Rosenberg


— ; — FRAGMENTS OF "THE UNICORN II THE SONG OF TEL THE NUBIAN Small dazzling face ! I shut you in my soul How can I perish now ? But thence a strange decay Your fragile gleaming wrists Waver my days and shake my life To golden tremors. I have no life at all, Only thin golden tremors That shudder over the abyss of days Which hedged my spirit, my spirit your prison walls That shrunk like phantasms with your vivid beauty Towering and widening till The sad moonless place Throngs with a million torches And spears of flaming wings. 129 i

POEMS BY ISAAC ROSENBERG III THE TOWER OF SKULLS Mourners These layers of piled-up skulls, These layers of gleaming' horror—stark horror ! Ah me ! eyes. Through my thin hands they touch my Everywhere, everywhere is a pregnant birth, And here in death's land is a pregnant birth. Your own crying is less mortal Than the amazing soul in your body. Your own crying yon parrot takes up And from your empty skull cries it afterwards. Thou whose dark activities unenchanted Days from gyrating days, suspending them To thrust them far from sight, from the gyrating days Which have gone widening on and left us here, Cast derelicts lost for ever. 1530