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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=373521" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>I Make This In A Warring Absence</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I make this in a warring absence when<br>Each ancient, stone-necked minute of love's season<br>Harbours my anchored tongue, slips the quaystone,<br>When, praise is blessed, her pride in mast and fountain<br>Sailed and set dazzling by the handshaped ocean,<br>In that proud sailing tree with branches driven<br>Through the last vault and vegetable groyne,<br>And this weak house to marrow-columned heaven,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Is corner-cast, breath's rag, scrawled weed, a vain<br>And opium head, crow stalk, puffed, cut, and blown,<br>Or like the tide-looped breastknot reefed again<br>Or rent ancestrally the roped sea-hymen,<br>And, pride is last, is like a child alone<br>By magnet winds to her blind mother drawn,<br>Bread and milk mansion in a toothless town.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She makes for me a nettle's innocence<br>And a silk pigeon's guilt in her proud absence,<br>In the molested rocks the shell of virgins,<br>The frank, closed pearl, the sea-girls' lineaments<br>Glint in the staved and siren-printed caverns,<br>Is maiden in the shameful oak, omens<br>Whalebed and bulldance, the gold bush of lions,<br>Proud as a sucked stone and huge as sandgrains.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">These are her contraries: the beast who follows<br>With priest's grave foot and hand of five assassins<br>Her molten flight up cinder-nesting columns,<br>Calls the starved fire herd, is cast in ice,<br>Lost in a limp-treed and uneating silence,<br>Who scales a hailing hill in her cold flintsteps<br>Falls on a ring of summers and locked noons.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I make a weapon of an ass's skeleton<br>And walk the warring sands by the dead town.<br>Cudgel great air, wreck east, and topple sundown,<br>Storm her sped heart, hang with beheaded veins<br>Its wringing shell, and let her eyelids fasten.<br>Destruction, picked by birds, brays through the jaw-bone,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And, for that murder's sake, dark with contagion<br>Like an approaching wave I sprawl to ruin.<br>Ruin, the room of errors, one rood dropped<br>Down the stacked sea and water-pillared shade,<br>Weighed in rock shroud, is my proud pyramid;<br>Where, wound in emerald linen and sharp wind,<br>The hero's head lies scraped of every legend,<br>Comes love's anatomist with sun-gloved hand<br>Who picks the live heart on a diamond.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'His mother's womb had a tongue that lapped up mud,'<br>Cried the topless, inchtaped lips from hank and hood<br>In that bright anchorground where I lay linened,<br>'A lizard darting with black venom's thread<br>Doubled, to fork him back, through the lockjaw bed<br>And the breath-white, curtained mouth of seed.'<br>'See,' drummed the taut masks, 'how the dead ascend:<br>In the groin's endless coil a man is tangled.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">These once-blind eyes have breathed a wind of visions,<br>The cauldron's root through this once-rindless hand<br>Fumed like a tree, and tossed a burning bird;<br>With loud, torn tooth and tail and cobweb drum<br>The crumpled packs fled past this ghost in bloom,<br>And, mild as pardon from a cloud of pride,<br>The terrible world my brother bares his skin.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now in the cloud's big breast lie quiet countries,<br>Delivered seas my love from her proud place<br>Walks with no wound, nor lightning in her face,<br>A calm wind blows that raised the trees like hair<br>Once where the soft snow's blood was turned to ice.<br>And though my love pulls the pale, nippled air,<br>Prides of to-morrow suckling in her eyes,<br>Yet this I make in a forgiving presence.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Dylan+Thomas">Dylan Thomas</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=373521" data-title="I Make This In A Warring Absence de Dylan Thomas" data-description="I make this in a warring absence when
Each ancient, stone-necked minute of love's season
Harbours my anchored tongue, slips the quaystone,
When, praise is blessed, her pride in mast and fountain
Sailed and set dazzling by the handshaped ocean,
In ..."></div>
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