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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=429750" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Realities</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">(To the etchings of Norman Lindsay)<br>Now the statues lean over each to each, and sing, <br>Gravely in warm plaster turning; the hedges are dark. <br>The trees come suddenly to flower with moonlight, <br>The water-gardens to glassy fire, and the night, the night, <br>Breaks in a rain of stars. O, now the statues wake, <br>Poise on their leaden stems, and dive into the lake— <br>And the old Gardener, who has grown old with raking, <br>Bends by his flickering candle, and hears the noise, <br>And is nodding his head at a music of copper shaking, <br>And Mercury whispering to some little graven Boys. <br>And Venus with Venus is walking in a misty grove, <br>Their mouths breathless with great lies of Jove, <br>And the green-silver moon flows quivering down their sides, <br>Till each is lined in light. <br>'And this Brass Tower?' she said— <br>But a stone Faun, clawed to the branches overhead, <br>Could hold his breath no longer, downward slides, <br>And crashes in a storm of leaves.—O, look, the lake! <br>O, the great dolphins from the fountain-rim, <br>And the rusty Tritons—and O, the branches break— <br>A flute of ivory shines—it is Apollo come to swim! <br>Then the skies open with a light from no moon or star, <br>The dark terraces tremble, melt in a shower of petals; <br>Flowers turn to faces; faces, like small gold panes, <br>Are bodied with a mist of limbs—no dark remains, <br>Nor silence, but there is laughter like bells in air, <br>A rushing wind of music, torches, dancers everywhere, <br>And lovers no farther. It is not night nor day, <br>The world's tissue has utterly crumbled away, <br>Time is a crusty pond, and that old Mirror, Life, <br>Has broken, and the ghosts of flesh are stirred <br>With a new blood, the fluid of eternity, <br>And mouths that have never spoken, ears that have never heard, <br>Eyes that have never seen, speak now, and hear, and see. <br>And I, who have climbed in these unrooted boughs <br>Behind the world, find substance there and flesh, <br>Thoughts more infrangible than windy vows, <br>Love that's more bodily, and kisses longer, <br>And Cythera lovelier, and the girls of moonlight stronger <br>Than all earth's ladies, webbed in their bony mesh. <br>The statues dance, and the old Gardener is asleep, <br>And golden bodies tread the paths—O, happy shapes, <br>O, shining ones! Could I for ever keep <br>Within your radiance, made absolute at last, <br>No more amongst earth's phantoms to be cast, <br>No more in the shadowy race of the world exist, <br>But, born into reality, remember Life <br>As men see ghosts at midnight—so with me <br>Might all those aery textures, the world's mist, <br>Melt into Beauty's actuality!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Kenneth+Slessor">Kenneth Slessor</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=429750" data-title="Realities de Kenneth Slessor" data-description="(To the etchings of Norman Lindsay)
Now the statues lean over each to each, and sing, 
Gravely in warm plaster turning; the hedges are dark. 
The trees come suddenly to flower with moonlight, 
The water-gardens to glassy fire, and the night, the n..."></div>
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