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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=374606" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Menses</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">(He speaks, but to himself, being aware how it is with her)<br>Think not I have not heard.<br>Well-fanged the double word<br>And well-directed flew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I felt it. Down my side<br>Innocent as oil I see the ugly venom slide:<br>Poison enough to stiffen us both, and all our friends;<br>But I am not pierced, so there the mischief ends.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There is more to be said: I see it coiling;<br>The impact will be pain.<br>Yet coil; yet strike again.<br>You cannot riddle the stout mail I wove<br>Long since, of wit and love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As for my answer . . . stupid in the sun<br>He lies, his fangs drawn:<br>I will not war with you.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You know how wild you are. You are willing to be turned<br>To other matters; you would be grateful, even.<br>You watch me shyly. I (for I have learned<br>More things than one in our few years together)<br>Chafe at the churlish wind, the unseasonable weather.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Unseasonable?" you cry, with harsher scorn<br>Than the theme warrants; "Every year it is the same!<br>'Unseasonable!' they whine, these stupid peasants!—and never<br>since they were born<br>Have they known a spring less wintry! Lord, the shame,<br>The crying shame of seeing a man no wiser than the beasts he<br>feeds—<br>His skull as empty as a shell!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">("Go to. You are unwell.")</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Such is my thought, but such are not my words.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"What is the name," I ask, "of those big birds<br>With yellow breast and low and heavy flight,<br>That make such mournful whistling?"</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "Meadowlarks,"<br>You answer primly, not a little cheered.<br>"Some people shoot them." Suddenly your eyes are wet<br>And your chin trembles. On my breast you lean,<br>And sob most pitifullly for all the lovely things that are not and<br>have been.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"How silly I am!—and I know how silly I am!"<br>You say; "You are very patient. You are very kind.<br>I shall be better soon. Just Heaven consign and damn<br>To tedious Hell this body with its muddy feet in my mind!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edna+St.+Vincent+Millay">Edna St. Vincent Millay</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=374606" data-title="Menses de Edna St. Vincent Millay" data-description="(He speaks, but to himself, being aware how it is with her) Think not I have not heard. Well-fanged the double word And well-directed flew. I felt it. Down my side Innocent as oil I see the ugly venom slide: Poison enough to stiffen us both, and ..."></div> </div> </div>
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