Tuesday, April 7, 2009

some sylvia

April Aubade
by Sylvia Plath

Worship this world of watercolor mood
in glass pagodas hung with veils of green
where diamonds jangle hymns within the blood
and sap ascends the steeple of the vein.

A saintly sparrow jargons madrigals
to waken dreamers in the milky dawn,
while tulips bow like a college of cardinals
before that papal paragon, the sun.

Christened in a spindrift of snowdrop stars,
where on pink-fluted feet the pigeons pass
and jonquils sprout like solomon's metaphors,
my love and I go garlanded with grass.

Again we are deluded and infer
that somehow we are younger than we were.


Megan said...

I hope you are having a fabulous time and getting to read lots of Sylvia! I'm sad we didn't get to swap stories on Monday; I was a little under the weather and stayed home to read Gatsby. :) See you next week!

georgia b. said...

like this. never really read her work. thanks for sharing.