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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=580029" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To a Boy Leading a Horse</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Under a shudder of sun<br>A murmur of wood.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The opal sky impure as lead, <br>The air is gaunt and azure-sedged; <br>Combed with glass and mercury.<br>A marble tomb suspended.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> §</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Under the flesh of this sun <br>I fear for your tenderness, boy.<br>Though the wind is not more bronze<br>Than the crumpled ochre of your skin, <br>With the petal of your phallus<br>Outlined as the rest of your body<br>In chrome and creosote, your eyes imprinted <br>Wild with tarnished ash and flaking rock-flint —<br>What of you is permanent? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">A gash of<br>Shadow leaks above your chin, <br>Shadows streak dark foliage cringing<br>Along your shins.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Dispatched in light but not of noon, <br>I know the world is claimed by litanies<br>Crude as your lips and soldered as your limbs.<br>Vacant and chartreuse, nude and loose<br>As a cratered stump <br>I know the body of a boy exceeds<br>—What red oaks rise from the blonde titan earth <br>And come to crumbled timber, broke shanks<br>And crippled paper.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Our breath is tenured<br>In wild shoots, pools and blanks of weather.<br>It permits of leisure<br>Its limits will not remember.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You, boy, who lead a horse hinged in silver, <br>Know, this is not elegy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> §</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And yet, what else records<br>The accusation of an upright neck? <br>Plaintive, ordinate, an open form<br>Spanning the locked space between<br>Despair and what we know of prayer. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Infringed perpetually, <br>Hollow, cavernous, deprived<br>And permeated with presence<br>Wholly created and uncreated, <br>The singer is a mouth<br>Heaving heaven; severed, lavish<br>Dissolving increments caving<br>Towards light or light's brethren<br>But by light never sated.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To which we have heard it sung and said<br>As the mouth is clay and song<br>As you say, clasping hip<br>With more than shadow spilling from your lips: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have my dead and do not mourn their going.<br>I have my dead, their peace is half my going <br>And half a peace I hold remote, and dread.<br>Flowing over the stricken calyx of my palm <br>My grasp extends and grasps for what visible<br>Region reigns within a terror our eyes tread, <br>Towards elsewhere, askew, groping the invisible<br>Until the dark has blossomed, concrete and calmed. <br>We have breathed as leaders with corrupted knowing, <br>The imagination is a steed, cryptic, fleet, unknowing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Adam+Fitzgerald">Adam Fitzgerald</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=580029" data-title="To a Boy Leading a Horse de Adam Fitzgerald" data-description="Under a shudder of sun
A murmur of wood.

The opal sky impure as lead, 
The air is gaunt and azure-sedged; 
Combed with glass and mercury.
A marble tomb suspended.

 §

Under the flesh of this sun 
I fear for your tenderness, boy.
Though the wind..."></div>
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