Pear Tree

SILVER dust

lifted from the earth,

higher than my arms can reach,

you have mounted.

O silver,

higher than my arms can reach

you front us with great mass;

no flower ever opened

so staunch a white leaf,

no flower ever parted silver

from such rare silver;

O white pear,

your flower-tufts,

thick on the branch,

bring summer and ripe fruits

in their purple hearts.

H.D.

Heat

O WIND, rend open the heat,

cut apart the heat,

rend it to tatters.

Fruit cannot drop

through this thick air-

fruit cannot fall into heat

that presses up and blunts

the points of pears

and rounds the grapes.

Cut through the heat-

plow through it

turning it on either side

of your path.

H.D.

Adonis

1.

EACH of us like you

has died once,

has passed through drift of wood-leaves,

cracked and bent

and tortured and unbent

in the winter-frost,

the burnt into gold points,

lighted afresh,

crisp amber, scales of gold-leaf,

gold turned and re-welded

in the sun;

each of us like you

has died once,

each of us has crossed an old wood-path

and found the winter-leaves

so golden in the sun-fire

that even the live wood-flowers

were dark.

2.

Not the gold on the temple-front

where you stand

is as gold as this,

not the gold that fastens your sandals,

nor thee gold reft

through your chiselled locks,

is as gold as this last year's leaf,

not all the gold hammered and wrought

and beaten

on your lover's face.

brow and bare breast

is as golden as this:

each of us like you

has died once,

each of us like you

stands apart, like you

fit to be worshipped.

H.D.

Oread

WHIRL up, sea--

whirl your pointed pines, splash your great pines

on our rocks,

hurl your green over us,

cover us with your pools of fir.

H.D.

Orchard

I SAW the first pear

as it fell--

the honey-seeking, golden-banded,

the yellow swarm

was not more fleet than I,

(spare us from loveliness)

and I fell prostrate

crying:

you have flayed us

with your blossoms,

spare us the beauty

of fruit-trees.

The honey-seeking

paused not,

the air thundered their song,

and I alone was prostrate.

O rough-hewn

god of the orchard,

I bring you an offering--

do you, alone unbeautiful,

son of the god,

spare us from loveliness:

these fallen hazel-nuts,

stripped late of their green sheaths,

grapes, red-purple,

their berries

dripping with wine,

pomegranates already broken,

and shrunken figs

and quinces untouched,

I bring you as offering.

H.D.

From citron-bower

FROM citron-bower be her bed,

cut from branch of tree a-flower,

fashioned for her maidenhead.

From Lydian apples, sweet of hue,

cut the width of board and lathe,

carve the feet from myrtle-wood.

Let the palings of her bed

be quince and box-wood overlaid

with the scented bark of yew.

That all the wood in blossoming,

may calm her heart and cool her blood,

for losing of her maidenhood.

H.D.

Sea Poppies

AMBER husk

fluted with gold,

fruited on the sand

marked with a rich grain,

treasure

spilled near the shrub-pines

to bleach on the boulders:

your stalk has caught root

among wet pebbles

and drift flung by the sea

and grated shells

and split conch-shells.

Beautiful, wide-spread,

fire upon leaf,

what meadow yields

so fragrant a leaf

as your bright leaf?

H.D.

Sea Rose

ROSE, harsh rose,

marred and with stint of petals,

meagre flower, thin,

sparse of leaf,

more precious

than a wet rose

single on a stem--

you are caught in the drift.

Stunted, with small leaf,

you are flung on the sand,

you are lifted

in the crisp sand

that drives in the wind.

Can the spice-rose

drip such acrid fragrance

hardened in a leaf?

H.D.