Derek Walcott Poems
|1.||A City's Death By Fire||1/13/2003|
|2.||A Far Cry From Africa||1/13/2003|
|3.||After The Storm||1/13/2003|
|9.||Forest Of Europe||1/13/2003|
|11.||In The Virgins||1/13/2003|
|12.||Koening Of The River||1/13/2003|
|13.||Love After Love||1/13/2003|
|15.||Night In The Gardens Of Port Of Spain||11/7/2005|
|19.||Ruins Of A Great House||3/30/2015|
|22.||The Glory Trumpeter||11/7/2005|
|23.||The Saddhu Of Couva||1/13/2003|
|24.||The Sea Is History||1/13/2003|
|25.||The Star-Apple Kingdom||4/12/2010|
Love After Love
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
The Glory Trumpeter
Old Eddie's face, wrinkled with river lights,
Looked like a Mississippi man's. The eyes,
Derisive and avuncular at once,
Swivelling, fixed me. They'd seen
Too many wakes, too many cathouse nights.
The bony, idle fingers on the valves
Of his knee-cradled horn could tear
Through 'Georgia on My Mind' or 'Jesus Saves'
With the same fury of indifference,