Стихи и эссе — страница 41 из 149

        Marsh-mallow salad.

     Charged with his compound of sensational

     Sex plus some undenominational

        Religious matter,

     Enormous novels by co-eds

     Rain down on our defenceless heads

        Till our teeth chatter.

     In fake Hermetic uniforms

     Behind our battle-line, in swarms

        That keep alighting,

     His existentialists declare

     That they are in complete despair,

        Yet go on writing.

     No matter; He shall be defied;

     White Aphrodite is on our side:

        What though his threat

     To organize us grow more critical?

     Zeus willing, we, the unpolitical,

        Shall beat him yet.

     Lone scholars, sniping from the walls

     Of learned periodicals,

        Our facts defend,

     Our intellectual marines,

     Landing in little magazines,

        Capture a trend.

     By night our student Underground

     At cocktail parties whisper round

        From ear to ear;

     Fat figures in the public eye

     Collapse next morning, ambushed by

        Some witty sneer.

     In our morale must lie our strength:

     So, that we may behold at length

        Routed Apollo's

     Battalions melt away like fog,

     Keep well the Hermetic Decalogue,

        Which runs as follows:-

     Thou shalt not do as the dean pleases,

     Thou shalt not write thy doctor's thesis

        On education,

     Thou shalt not worship projects nor

     Shalt thou or thine bow down before

        Administration.

     Thou shalt not answer questionnaires

     Or quizzes upon World-Affairs,

        Nor with compliance

     Take any test. Thou shalt not sit

     With statisticians nor commit

        A social science.

     Thou shalt not be on friendly terms

     With guys in advertising firms,

        Nor speak with such

     As read the Bible for its prose,

     Nor, above all, make love to those

        Who wash too much.

     Thou shalt not live within thy means

     Nor on plain water and raw greens.

        If thou must choose

     Between the chances, choose the odd;

     Read The New Yorker, trust in God;

        And take short views.

1946

A Walk After Dark

     A cloudless night like this

     Can set the spirit soaring:

     After a tiring day

     The clockwork spectacle is

     Impressive in a slightly boring

     Eighteenth-century way.

     It soothed adolescence a lot

     To meet so shameless a stare;

     The things I did could not

     Be so shocking as they said

     If that would still be there

     After the shocked were dead.

     Now, unready to die

     But already at the stage

     When one starts to resent the young,

     I am glad those points in the sky

     May also be counted among

     The creatures of Middle-age.

     It's cosier thinking of night

     As more an Old People's Home

     Than a shed for a faultless machine,

     That the red pre-Cambrian light

     Is gone like Imperial Rome

     Or myself at seventeen.

     Yet however much we may like

     The stoic manner in which

     The classical authors wrote,

     Only the young and the rich

     Have the nerve or the figure to strike

     The lacrimae rerum note.

     For the present stalks abroad

     Like the past and its wronged again

     Whimper and are ignored,

     And the truth cannot be hid;

     Somebody chose their pain,

     What needn't have happened did.

     Occurring this very night

     By no established rule,

     Some event may already have hurled

     Its first little No at the right

     Of the laws we accept to school

     Our post-diluvian world:

     But the stars burn on overhead,

     Unconscious of final ends,

     As I walk home to bed,

     Asking what judgement waits

     My person, all my friends,

     And these United States.

1948

The More Loving One

     Looking up at the stars, I know quite well

     That, for all they care, I can go to hell,

     But on earth indifference is the least

     We have to dread from man or beast.

     How should we like it were stars to burn

     With a passion for us we could not return?

     If equal affection cannot be,

     Let the more loving one be me.

     Admirer as I think I am

     Of stars that do not give a damn,

     I cannot, now I see them, say

     I missed one terribly all day.

     Were all stars to disappear or die,

     I should learn to look at an empty sky

     And feel its total dark sublime,

     Though this might take me a little time.

1957

The Shield of Achilles

     She looked over his shoulder

     For vines and olive trees,

     Marble well-governed cities

     And ships upon untamed seas,

     But there on the shining metal

     His hands had put instead

     An artificial wilderness

     And a sky like lead.

     A plain without a feature, bare and brown,

     No blade of grass, no sign of neighborhood,

     Nothing to eat and nowhere to sit down,

     Yet, congregated on its blankness, stood

     An unintelligible multitude,

     A million eyes, a million boots in line,

     Without expression, waiting for a sign.

     Out of the air a voice without a face

     Proved by statistics that some cause was just

     In tones as dry and level as the place:

     No one was cheered and nothing was discussed;

     Column by column in a cloud of dust

     They marched away enduring a belief

     Whose logic brought them, somewhere else, to grief.

     She looked over his shoulder

     For ritual pieties,

     White flower-garlanded heifers,

     Libation and sacrifice,

     But there on the shining metal

     Where the altar should have been,

     She saw by his flickering forge-light

     Quite another scene.

     Barbed wire enclosed an arbitrary spot

Where bored officials lounged (one cracked a joke)

     And sentries sweated for the day was hot:

     A crowd of ordinary decent folk

     Watched from without and neither moved nor spoke

     As three pale figures were led forth and bound

     To three posts driven upright in the ground.

     The mass and majesty of this world, all

     That carries weight and always weighs, the same

     Lay in the hands of others; they were small

     And could not hope for help and no help came:

     What their foes liked to do was done, their shame

     Was all the worst could wish; they lost their pride

     And died as men before their bodies died.

     She looked over his shoulder

     For athletes at their games,

     Men and women in a dance

     Moving their sweet limbs

     Quick, quick, to music,

     But there on the shining shield

     His hands had set no dancing-floor

     But a weed-choked field.

     A ragged urchin, aimless and alone,

     Loitered about that vacancy; a bird

     Flew up to safety from his well-aimed stone:

     That girls are raped, that two boys knife a third,

     Were axioms to him, who'd never heard

     Of any world where promises were kept,

     Or one could weep because another wept.

     The thin-lipped armorer,

     Hephaestos, hobbled away,

     Thetis of the shining breasts

     Cried out in dismay

     At what the god had wrought

     To please her son, the strong

     Iron-hearted man-slaying Achilles

     Who would not live long.

1952

Friday's Child

(In memory of Dietrich Bonhoeffer,
martyred at Flossenbürg, April 9, 1945)

     He told us we were free to choose

     But, children as we were, we thought-

     "Paternal Love will only use

     Force in the last resort

     On those too bumptious to repent."

     Accustomed to religious dread,

     It never crossed our minds He meant

     Exactly what He said.

     Perhaps He frowns, perhaps He grieves,