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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=358602" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sea Holly</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Begotten by the meeting of rock with rock, <br>The mating of rock and rock, rocks gnashing together; <br>Created so, and yet forgetful, walks <br>The seaward path, puts up her left hand, shades <br>Blue eyes, the eyes of rock, to see better <br>In slanting light the ancient sheep (which kneels <br>Biting the grass) the while her other hand, <br>Hooking the wicker handle, turns the basket <br>Of eggs. The sea is high to-day. The eggs <br>Are cheaper. The sea is blown from the southwest, <br>Confused, taking up sand and mud in waves, <br>The waves break, sluggish, in brown foam, the wind <br>Disperses (on the sheep and hawthorn) spray,— <br>And on her cheeks, the cheeks engendered of rock, <br>And eyes, the colour of rock. The left hand <br>Falls from the eyes, and undecided slides <br>Over the left breast on which muslin lightly <br>Rests, touching the nipple, and then down <br>The hollow side, virgin as rock, and bitterly <br>Caresses the blue hip. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>It was for this, <br>This obtuse taking of the seaward path, <br>This stupid hearing of larks, this hooking <br>Of wicker, this absent observation of sheep <br>Kneeling in harsh sea-grass, the cool hand shading <br>The spray-stung eyes—it was for this the rock <br>Smote itself. The sea is higher to-day, <br>And eggs are cheaper. The eyes of rock take in <br>The seaward path that winds toward the sea, <br>The thistle-prodder, old woman under a bonnet, <br>Forking the thistles, her back against the sea, <br>Pausing, with hard hands on the handle, peering <br>With rock eyes from her bonnet. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>It was for this, <br>This rock-lipped facing of brown waves, half sand <br>And half water, this tentative hand that slides <br>Over the breast of rock, and into the hollow <br>Soft side of muslin rock, and then fiercely <br>Almost as rock against the hip of rock— <br>It was for this in midnight the rocks met, <br>And dithered together, cracking and smoking. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>It was for this <br>Barren beauty, barrenness of rock that aches <br>On the seaward path, seeing the fruitful sea, <br>Hearing the lark of rock that sings, smelling <br>The rock-flower of hawthorn, sweetness of rock— <br>It was for this, stone pain in the stony heart, <br>The rock loved and laboured; and all is lost.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Conrad+Potter+Aiken">Conrad Potter Aiken</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=358602" data-title="Sea Holly de Conrad Potter Aiken" data-description="Begotten by the meeting of rock with rock, 
The mating of rock and rock, rocks gnashing together; 
Created so, and yet forgetful, walks 
The seaward path, puts up her left hand, shades 
Blue eyes, the eyes of rock, to see better 
In slanting light..."></div>
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