<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=429701" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Irkalla's White Caves</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I believe that a young woman<br>Is standing in a circle of lions<br>In the other side of the sky.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In a little while I must carry her the flowers<br>Which only fade here; and she will not cry<br>If my hands are not very full.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">±</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fiery antlers toss within the forests of heaven<br>And ocean’s plaintive towns<br>Echo the tread of celestial feet.<br>O the beautiful eyes stare down…<br>What have we done that we are blessèd?<br>What have we died that we hasten to God?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">±</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And all the animals are asleep again<br>In their separate caves.<br>Hairy bellies distended with their kill.<br>Culture blubbering in and out<br>Like the breath of a stranded fish.<br>Crucifixion in wax. The test-tube messiahs.<br>Immaculate fornication under the smoking walls<br>Of a dead world.<br>I dig for my death<br>in this thousand-watt dungheap.<br>There isn’t even enough clean air.<br>To die in.<br>O blood-bearded destroyer!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In other times...<br>(soundless barges float<br>down the rivers of death)<br>In another heart<br>These crimes may not flower…<br>What have we done that we are blessèd?<br>What have we damned that we are blinded?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">±</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now, with my seven-holed head open<br>On the air whence comes a fabulous mariner<br>To take his place among the spheres—<br>The air which is God<br>And the mariner who is sheep—I fold<br>Upon myself like a bird over flames. Then<br>All my nightbound juices sing. Snails<br>Pop out of unexpected places and the long<br>light lances of waterbulls plunge<br>into the green crotch of my native land.<br>Eyes peer out of the seaweed that gently sways<br>Above the towers and salt gates of a lost world.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">±</div><div style="margin:10px 0">On the other side of the sky<br>A young woman is standing<br>In a circle of lions—<br>The young woman who is dream<br>And the lions which are death.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Kenneth+Patchen">Kenneth Patchen</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=429701" data-title="Irkalla's White Caves de Kenneth Patchen" data-description="I believe that a young woman Is standing in a circle of lions In the other side of the sky. In a little while I must carry her the flowers Which only fade here; and she will not cry If my hands are not very full. ± Fiery antlers toss within th..."></div> </div> </div>

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