(04 October 1943 / Germany)

Tokens

Green mwold on zummer bars do show
That they've a-dripped in winter wet;
The hoof-worn ring o' groun' below
The tree do tell o' storms or het;
The trees in rank along a ledge
Do show where woonce did bloom a hedge;
An' where the vurrow-marks do stripe
The down the wheat woonce rustled ripe.
Each mark ov things a-gone vrom view—
To eyezight's woone, to soulzight two.

The grass agean the mwoldren door
'S a token sad o' vo'k a-gone,
An' where the house, bwoth wall an' vloor,
'S a-lost, the well mid linger on.
What tokens, then, could Meary gi'e
That she a-lived, an' lived vor me,
But things a-done vor thought an' view?
Good things that nwone agean can do,
An' every work her love ha' wrought,
To eyezight's woone, but two to thought.

by William Barnes

Comments (4)

A smile creeps onto my face. t x
I see Greek statues, perfect images of perfect bodies caught with grace and light, when I read your words. Intoxicating sweetness with just a touch of ennui. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Ach zo, the philosopher shines through...
Wicked again, 'precise hexameters with fingers drunk from joy' great line Cheers Anita