The panes flash, tremble with your ghostly passage
Through them, an x-ray sheerness billowing, and I have risen
But cannot speak, remembering only that one was meant
To rise and not to speak. Young storm, this house is yours.
Let our eye darken, your rain come, the candle reeling
Deep in what still reflects control itself and me.
Daybreak's great gray rust-veined irises humble and proud
Along your path will have laid their foreheads in the dust.
James Merrill's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Another April by James Merrill )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- My Ramdan, My Repentance, Ahamad Ilyaas Vilayathullah
- She in Desert, Akhtar Jawad
- A bucket of paint, Piyush Dey
- Value be given, gajanan mishra
- Egypt, Tony Adah
- A Tribute To Gray's Elegy, Naveed Khalid
- Nothing i can offer, binod bastola
- Canonical, Naveed Khalid
- Africanesse not Darkness, Famoroti Odunayo Israel
- A Broken Mirror, Naveed Khalid