(04 October 1943 / Germany)

Love Turned To Hatred

I will not love one minute more, I swear!
No, not a minute! Not a sigh or tear
Thou gett'st from me, or one kind look again,
Though thou shouldst court me to 't, and wouldst begin.
I will not think of thee but as men do
Of debts and sins; and then I'll curse thee too.
For thy sake woman shall be now to me
Less welcome than at midnight ghosts shall be.
I'll hate so perfectly that it shall be
Treason to love that man that loves a she.
Nay, I will hate the very good, I swear,
That's in thy sex, because it doth lie there, -
Their very virtue, grace, discourse, and wit,
And all for thee! What, wilt thou love me yet?

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Comments (3)

I was worried that this was what you were saying here, Herbert. Fight on. A dark, harrowing poem. G.
Thanks, Duncan. It is the expression of what should never have to be expressed. A mother who will walk with the criminal out of utter convenience. Best H
Something very deep about this one Herbert, Was this to be a mothers defeat at the loss of her own power or a sons even deeper feeling of defeat at the feelings of loss for her A overpowering father perhaps Eitherway it carries a very deep emotional basis Love Duncan X