Lizard at Pompeii Poem by Babette Deutsch
Lizard at Pompeii
Little finger of fiery green, it
flickers over stone. Waits
in a weed's shadow.
Flashes emerald-
is gone.
Here once horror poured so hot, heavy, thick,
everyone was dead before he was sick.
Now here is no heat but the sun's
on old stone treads;
no motion but that rippling inch of whip:
yours, you little live jewel, who slipped away
into silence. Yet stay on to haunt memory,
like those dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
5/2/2024 10:20:46 PM # 1.0.0.1119
