Irony into a joke, i
Till I stood convicted of
Doubt and insufficient love. |
Farewell, dear island of our wreck: |
All have been restored to health,
All have seen the Commonwealth,
There is nothing to forgive.
Since a storm's decision gave
His subjective passion back ,
To a meditative man, ,
Even reminiscence can
Comfort ambient troubles like
Some ruined tower by the sea
Whence boyhoods growing and afraid
Learn a formula they need
In solving their mortality, 5
Even rusting flesh can be
A simple locus now, a bell
The Already There can lay
Hands on if at any time
It should feel inclined to say
To the lonely—"Here I am," '
To the anxious—"All is well."
One tongue is silent, Prospera,
My language is my own; Decayed Gonzalo does not know The shadow that Antonio Talks to, at noon, alone.
ADRIAN AND FRANCISCO
Good little sunbeams must learn to fly, But it's madly ungay when the goldfish die.
One act is censored, Prospera,
My audience is my own; Nor Adrian nor Francisco know The drama that Antonio Plays in his head alone.
ALONSO
Dear Son, when the warm multitudes cry, Ascend your throne majestically, But keep in mind the waters where fish See sceptres descending with no wish To touch them; sit regal and erect, But imagine the sands where a crown Has the status of a broken-down Sofa or mutilated statue: Remember as bells and cannon boom The cold deep that does not envy you, The sunburnt superficial kingdom Where a king is an object.
Expect no help from others, for who Talk sense to princes or refer to The scorpion in official speeches As they unveil some granite Progress Leading a child and holding a bunch Of lilies? In their Royal Zoos the
Shark and the octopus are tactfully Omitted; synchronised clocks march on
Within their powers: without, remain ;
The ocean flats where no subscription '
Concerts are given, the desert plain j
Where there is nothing for lunch. '
Only your darkness can tell you what !
A prince's ornate mirror dare not,
Which you should fear more—the sea in which
A tyrant sinks entangled in rich
Robes while a mistress turns a white back
Upon his splutter, or the desert
Where an emperor stands in his shirt
While his diary is read by sneering
Beggars, and far off he notices '
A lean horror flapping and hopping
Toward him with inhuman swiftness: f
Learn from your dreams what you lack, '
For as your fears are, so must you hope. The Way of Justice is a tightrope Where no prince is safe for one instant Unless he trust his embarrassment, As in his left ear the siren sings Meltingly of water and a night Where all flesh had peace, and on his right The efreet offers a brilliant void Where his mind could be perfectly clear And all his limitations destroyed: Many young princes soon disappear To join all the unjust kings.
So, if you prosper, suspect those bright Mornings when you whistle with a light Heart. You are loved; you have never seen The harbour so still, the park so green, So many well-fed pigeons upon
Cupolas and triumphal arches, So many stags and slender ladies Beside the canals. Remember when Your climate seems a permanent home For marvellous creatures and great men, What griefs and convulsions startled Rome, Ecbatana, Babylon.
How narrow the space, how slight the chance
For civil pattern and importance
Between the watery vagueness and
The triviality of the sand,
How soon the lively trip is over
From loose craving to sharp aversion,
Aimless jelly to paralysed bone:
At the end of each successful day
Remember that the fire and the ice
Are never more than one step away
From the temperate city; it is
But a moment to either.
But should you fail to keep your kingdom And, like your father before you, come Where thought accuses and feeling mocks, Believe your pain: praise the scorching rocks For their desiccation of your lust, Thank the bitter treatment of the tide For its dissolution of your pride, That the whirlwind may arrange your will And the deluge release it to find The spring in the desert, the fruitful Island in the sea, where flesh and mind Are delivered from mistrust.
Blue the sky beyond her humming sail As I sit to-day by our ship's rail Watching exuberant porpoises Escort us homeward and writing this
For you to open when I am gone: Read it, Ferdinand, with the blessing
Of Alonso, your father, once King ,
Of Naples, now ready to welcome Death, but rejoicing in a new love,
A new peace, having heard the solemn \
Music strike and seen the statue move ,
To forgive our illusion. j
One crown is lacking, Prospera,
My empire is my own; Dying Aionso does not know The diadem Antonio
Wears in his worl d alone.
|
MASTER AND BOATSWAIN |
At Dirty Dick's and Sloppy Joe's j
We drank our liquor straight, Some went upstairs with Margery,
And some, alas, with Kate; And two by two like cat and mouse |
The homeless played at keeping house. -
There Wealthy Meg, the Sailor's Friend, |
And Marion, cow-eyed, Opened their arms to me but I
Refused to step inside; I was not looking for a cage In which to mope in my old age.
The nightingales are sobbing in The orchards of our mothers, And hearts that we broke long ago Have long been breaking others; Tears are round, the sea is deep: Roll them overboard and sleep.
One gaze points elsewhere, Prospera,
My compass is my own; Nostalgic sailors do not know The waters where Antonio Sails on and on alone.
SEBASTIAN
My rioters all disappear, my dream Where Prudence flirted with a naked sword, Securely vicious, crumbles; it is day; Nothing has happened; we are all alive: I am Sebastian, wicked still, my proof Of mercy that I wake without a crown.
What sadness signalled to our children's day Where each believed all wishes wear a crown And anything pretended is alive, That one by one we plunged into that dream Of solitude and silence where no sword Will ever play once it is called a proof?
The arrant jewel singing in his crown Persuaded me my brother was a dream I should not love because I had no proof, Yet all my honesty assumed a sword; To think his death I thought myself alive And stalked infected through the blooming day.
The lie of Nothing is to promise proof To any shadow that there is no day Which cannot be extinguished with some sword, To want and weakness that the ancient crown Envies the childish head, murder a dream Wrong only while its victim is alive.
'-W
blessed be bleak Exposure on whose sword, Caught unawares, we prick ourselves alive!
Shake Failure's bruising fist! Who else would crown ,
Abominable error with a proof?
smile because I tremble, glad to-day |
To be ashamed, not anxious, not a dream. j
i
f
Children are playing, brothers are alive,
And not a heart or stomach asks for proof |
That all this dearness is no lovers' dream;
Just Now is what it might be every day, '•
Right Here is absolute and needs no crown,
Ermine or trumpets, protocol or sword.
In dream all sins are easy, but by day '
It is defeat gives proof we are alive; |
The sword we suffer is the guarded crown. j