<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529922" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Homage to Hieronymus Bosch</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A woman with no face walked into the light;<br>A boy, in a brown-tree norfolk suit,<br>Holding on<br>Without hands<br>To her seeming skirt.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She stopped,<br>And he stopped,<br>And I, in terror, stopped, staring.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then I saw a group of shadowy figures behind her.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It was a wild wet morning<br>But the little world was spinning on.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Liplessly, somehow, she addressed it:<br>The book must be opened<br>And the park too.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I might have tittered<br>But my teeth chattered<br>And I saw that the words, as they fell,<br>Lay, wriggling, on the ground.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There was a stir of wet wind<br>And the shadowy figures began to stir<br>When one I had thought dead<br>Filmed slowly out of his great effigy on a tomb near by<br>And they all shuddered<br>He bent as if to speak to the woman<br>But the nursery governor flew up out of the well of Saint Patrick,<br>Confiscated by his mistress,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And, his head bent,<br>Staring out over his spectacles,<br>And scratching the gravel furiously, Hissed -<br>    The words went pingg! like bullets,<br>    Upwards, past his spectacles<br>Say nothing, I say, say nothing, say nothing!<br>And he who had seemed to be coming to life<br>Gasped,<br>Began hysterically, to laugh and cry,<br>And, with a gesture of impotent and half-petulant despair,<br>Filmed back into his effigy again.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">High above the Bank of Ireland<br>Unearthly music sounded,<br>Passing westwards.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then, from the drains,<br>Small sewage rats slid out.<br>They numbered hundreds of hundreds, tens, thousands.<br>Each bowed obsequiously to the shadowy figures<br>Then turned and joined in a stomach dance with his brothers and sisters.<br>Being a multitude, they danced irregularly.<br>There was rat laughter, Deeper here and there,<br>And occasionally she-rats grew hysterical.<br>The shadowy figures looked on, agonized.<br>The woman with no face gave a cry and collapsed.<br>The rats danced on her<br>And on the wriggling words<br>Smirking.<br>The nursery governor flew back into the well<br>With the little figure without hands in the brown-tree clothes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+MacGreevy">Thomas MacGreevy</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=529922" data-title="Homage to Hieronymus Bosch de Thomas MacGreevy" data-description="A woman with no face walked into the light; A boy, in a brown-tree norfolk suit, Holding on Without hands To her seeming skirt. She stopped, And he stopped, And I, in terror, stopped, staring. Then I saw a group of shadowy figures behind her. I..."></div> </div> </div>

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