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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=364149" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Tortoise Family Connections</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">On he goes, the little one,<br>Bud of the universe,<br>Pediment of life.<br>Setting off somewhere, apparently.<br>Whither away, brisk egg?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His mother deposited him on the soil as if he were no more than droppings,<br>And now he scuffles tinily past her as if she were an old rusty tin.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A mere obstacle,<br>He veers round the slow great mound of her --<br>Tortoises always foresee obstacles.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is no use my saying to him in an emotional voice:<br>'This is your Mother, she laid you when you were an egg.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He does not even trouble to answer: 'Woman, what have I to do with thee?'<br>He wearily looks the other way,<br>And she even more wearily looks another way still,<br>Each with the utmost apathy,<br>Incognisant,<br>Unaware,<br>Nothing.<br>As for papa,<br>He snaps when I offer him his offspring,<br>Just as he snaps when I poke a bit of stick at him,<br>Because he is irascible this morning, an irascible tortoise<br>Being touched with love, and devoid of fatherliness.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Father and mother,<br>And three little brothers,<br>And all rambling aimless, like little perambulating pebbles scattered in the garden,<br>Not knowing each other from bits of earth or old tins.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Except that papa and mama are old acquaintances, of course,<br>Though family feeling there is none, not even the beginnings.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fatherless, motherless, brotherless, sisterless<br>Little tortoise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Row on then, small pebble,<br>Over the clods of the autumn, wind-chilled sunshine,<br>Young gaiety.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Does he look for a companion?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No, no, don't think it.<br>He doesn't know he is alone;<br>Isolation is his birthright,<br>This atom.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To row forward, and reach himself tall on spiny toes,<br>To travel, to burrow into a little loose earth, afraid of the night,<br>To crop a little substance,<br>To move, and to be quite sure that he is moving:<br>Basta!<br>To be a tortoise!<br>Think of it, in a garden of inert clods<br>A brisk, brindled little tortoise, all to himself --<br>Adam!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In a garden of pebbles and insects<br>To roam, and feel the slow heart beat<br>Tortoise-wise, the first bell sounding<br>From the warm blood, in the dark-creation morning.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Moving, and being himself,<br>Slow, and unquestioned,<br>And inordinately there, O stoic!<br>Wandering in the slow triumph of his own existence,<br>Ringing the soundless bell of his presence in chaos,<br>And biting the frail grass arrogantly,<br>Decidedly arrogantly.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=David+Herbert+Lawrence">David Herbert Lawrence</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=364149" data-title="Tortoise Family Connections de David Herbert Lawrence" data-description="On he goes, the little one,
Bud of the universe,
Pediment of life.
Setting off somewhere, apparently.
Whither away, brisk egg?

His mother deposited him on the soil as if he were no more than droppings,
And now he scuffles tinily past her as if sh..."></div>
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