Tuesday, 12 February 2019

A favourite poem for Valentine's Day...


Looking by chance in at the open window
            I saw my own self seated in his chair
With gaze abstracted, furrowed forehead,
            Unkempt hair.

I thought that I had suddenly come to die,
            That to a cold corpse this was my farewell,
Until the pen moved slowly on the paper
            And tears fell.

He had written a name, yours, in printed letters
            One word on which bemusedly to pore:
No protest, no desire, your naked name,
            Nothing more.

Would it be tomorrow, would it be next year?
            But the vision was not false, this much I knew;
And I turned angrily from the open window
            Aghast at you.

Why never a warning, either by speech or look,
            That the love you cruelly gave me could not last?
Already it was too late: the bait swallowed,
            The hook fast.

                      Robert Graves

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