Poetry Sunday: Spring by Edna St. Vincent Millay
This poem caught my eye last week for its line "Not only under ground are the brains of men eaten by maggots." Somehow it seemed particularly apropos for the events of the week. Edna St. Vincent Millay certainly had April's number - a month that "Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers." After all, what does April care about the silly affairs of humans?
Spring
by Edna St. Vincent Millay
To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.
You can no longer quiet me with the redness
Of little leaves opening stickily.
I know what I know.
The sun is hot on my neck as I observe
The spikes of the crocus.
The smell of the earth is good.
It is apparent that there is no death.
But what does that signify?
Not only under ground are the brains of men
Eaten by maggots.
Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
April
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.
Very apt for the times, Dorothy. I wonder how many of the idiots in Washington have ever even read a poem?
ReplyDeleteI suspect most politicians (maybe even most people, full stop) everywhere of only reading things that tend to confirm and reinforce their prejudices. It's unlikely that includes much poetry.
DeleteIt is not a hopeful poem, but expresses clearly the futility (sometimes) of life.
ReplyDeleteThis poem made me think of the line "April is the cruelest month..." from the T. S. Eliot poem "The Waste Land" Even as our lilac buds are opening, there is snow in the forecast for tonight and it may not even make it to freezing Tuesday. It's interesting, the take some poets have on spring.
ReplyDeleteMillay is one of my favs. :D
ReplyDelete