Apr 03, 2017 01:00
I Shall Not Care
When I am dead and over me bright April
Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,
Though you should lean above me broken-hearted,
I shall not care.
I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful
When rain bends down the bough;
And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted
Than you are right now.
By Sara Teasdale
sara teasdale
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Here's one of hers I like, a bit along the same lines:
When I go back to earth
And all this glorious body
Takes off the red and white
That once had been so proud,
If men should pass above
With false and feeble pity,
My dust shall find a voice
To answer them aloud:
"Be still, I am content,
Take back your poor compassion,
Joy was a flame in me
Too steady to destroy.
Lithe as a bending reed
Loving the storm that sways her,
I found more joy in sorrow
Than you could find in joy."
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I like that poem too; thank you.
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...or, perhaps, it only seems thus to me.
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To me it seems more "when I am dead, then your coldness will no longer hurt me."
It brings to mind also this poem, 'Departure'.
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The days will rally, wreathing
Their crazy tarantelle;
And you must go on breathing,
But I'll be safe in hell.
Like January weather,
The years will bite and smart,
And pull your bones together
To wrap your chattering heart.
The pretty stuff you're made of
Will crack and crease and dry.
The thing you are afraid of
Will look from every eye.
You will go faltering after
The bright, imperious line,
And split your throat on laughter,
And burn your eyes with brine.
You will be frail and musty
With peering, furtive head,
Whilst I am young and lusty
Among the roaring dead.
Dorothy Parker
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