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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=537399" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Light Hearted Author</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The birches are mad with green points <br>the wood's edge is burning with their green, <br>burning, seething--No, no, no. <br>The birches are opening their leaves one <br>by one. Their delicate leaves unfold cold <br>and separate, one by one. Slender tassels <br>hang swaying from the delicate branch tips-- <br>Oh, I cannot say it. There is no word. <br>Black is split at once into flowers. In <br>every bog and ditch, flares of <br>small fire, white flowers!--Agh, <br>the birches are mad, mad with their green. <br>The world is gone, torn into shreds <br>with this blessing. What have I left undone <br>that I should have undertaken? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">O my brother, you redfaced, living man <br>ignorant, stupid whose feet are upon <br>this same dirt that I touch--and eat. <br>We are alone in this terror, alone, <br>face to face on this road, you and I, <br>wrapped by this flame! <br>Let the polished plows stay idle, <br>their gloss already on the black soil. <br>But that face of yours--! <br>Answer me. I will clutch you. I <br>will hug you, grip you. I will poke my face <br>into your face and force you to see me. <br>Take me in your arms, tell me the commonest <br>thing that is in your mind to say, <br>say anything. I will understand you--! <br>It is the madness of the birch leaves opening <br>cold, one by one. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">My rooms will receive me. But my rooms <br>are no longer sweet spaces where comfort <br>is ready to wait on me with its crumbs. <br>A darkness has brushed them. The mass <br>of yellow tulips in the bowl is shrunken. <br>Every familiar object is changed and dwarfed. <br>I am shaken, broken against a might <br>that splits comfort, blows apart <br>my careful partitions, crushes my house <br>and leaves me--with shrinking heart <br>and startled, empty eyes--peering out <br>into a cold world. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the spring I would be drunk! In the spring <br>I would be drunk and lie forgetting all things. <br>Your face! Give me your face, Yang Kue Fei! <br>your hands, your lips to drink! <br>Give me your wrists to drink-- <br>I drag you, I am drowned in you, you <br>overwhelm me! Drink! <br>Save me! The shad bush is in the edge <br>of the clearing. The yards in a fury <br>of lilac blossoms are driving me mad with terror. <br>Drink and lie forgetting the world. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And coldly the birch leaves are opening one by one. <br>Coldly I observe them and wait for the end. <br>And it ends.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Carlos+Williams">William Carlos Williams</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=537399" data-title="Light Hearted Author de William Carlos Williams" data-description="The birches are mad with green points 
the wood's edge is burning with their green, 
burning, seething--No, no, no. 
The birches are opening their leaves one 
by one. Their delicate leaves unfold cold 
and separate, one by one. Slender tassels 
ha..."></div>
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