Scribo Scribere

A Literary Blog

Dear reader,

Much like the last poem I posted, the following poem was inspired by the biblical Song of Songs.

Of Ten Thousand Men

I.

The world has grown harsh about me, and all is change.

The sun-god, following my mind,

has departed from the sky

and words nor thought can any longer call him back

until the day I die.

My mind grows open to the world.

It is tied to the spring and spring retreats from the earth.

II.

He came swiftly leaping in the hills.

He was younger than I.

He called to me in the fields:

Come.

And I came.

III.

And soon the summer-days will be departed, as seems neither possible nor true.

We looked into the sky and saw the means by which we will be saved.

He is dead now, though he shall leave the tracks of himself written on the sand.

He is dead now, though he shall rise again in the spring.

We will wait through the fall.

We will wait through the winter.

When the spring comes we will harvest the fruit

that through the winter has waited

in patient thought, hibernating

till, springing suddenly, from the sheaves of stalks

shall leap the life-god again, bringing with him a halo of rain

to sprinkle over the barren earth.

See now what love has wrought.

This is what my true love with his blood has bought.

IV.

If I had a thousand years I could not tell you all

the features of my love.

He is ruddy, white and red.

Swift as the hart in the hills,

terrible as a king on his throne,

tender as a child borne in a mother’s arms.

The face of my love is silence.

If we had a thousand years I could not tell you half

the features of my love.

V.

Around our house there stands a wall.

We are enclosed in the garden of love.

I call him my king.

He calls me his dove.

The wall is such that none can climb.

The wall is such we will never leave.

VI.

In the garden spring has come again.

My mind is closed to the world, but open to him.

I need no longer call until he comes.

We are together until we die.

The sun has broken from my mind

and sits once more in the sky.

The world has returned to itself once again.

My love is the best out of ten thousand men.


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