Friday, November 02, 2012

Poem for Shabbat XII


The school year started already two months ago, but only recently - after the High Holidays - did I restart sending a poem to my colleagues every week. From today onwards, until the end of the school year (excluding holidays), I will post the week's poem on this blog as well. Each poem I choose from one of the poetry books in my steadily growing collection.

What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why - 
Edna St.  Vincent Millay (1892-1950)  
 
What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, 
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain 
Under my head till morning; but the rain 
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh 
Upon the glass and listen for reply, 
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain 
For unremembered lads that not again 
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry. 
Thus in winter stands the lonely tree, 
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one, 
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before: 
I cannot say what loves have come and gone, 
I only know that summer sang in me 
A little while, that in me sings no more.
 
(found in David Lehman (ed.), The Oxford Book of American Poetry) 

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