Bernard Brown
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Bronzed in the dying sun, on Andes' peak,
Adorned with gold, steps sanguined in the snow,
Urged on by parents, friends and priests, to go
('Thou art the chosen one. Go, child, and seek!');
...
Long ago and distant, in days gone by,
When ships lay in the anchorage from Winchelsea to Rye,
With the wind in the ratlins, and the salt in the breeze,
And the tavern signs swinging to a song of the seas, Then the crews'd sing a shanty, or a sad Spanish air,
...
Go, take your cold heart with you. Go!
And fool with ours no more:
For some will feel and love and fall,
And grieve from the heart's core. Oh, give me those whose blood is warm,
...
The Best Poem Of Bernard Brown
Sarita
(An Incan Sacrifice)
Bronzed in the dying sun, on Andes' peak,
Adorned with gold, steps sanguined in the snow,
Urged on by parents, friends and priests, to go
('Thou art the chosen one. Go, child, and seek!');
Brightest and best, with maiden trust so meek,
Never the taint of motherhood to know;
By ochrous poison, or by deadly blow,
Who saw your ending, heard the final shriek? Appalled, one shudders at the ancient vice.
Then, comes a tiny, inner voice, sublime:
'Though my small corpse lie frozen in the ice,
Is not life's flame unquenchable as time?
And every death an equal sacrifice,
Each life a sacred mountain all must climb?'
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4/26/2024 9:18:50 AM # 1.0.0.1119
