Night The Fifth
A pig that wallows in the mud
Plotinus says can be washed clean.
Dung-spattered bull tormented by the flies
Be milk-white, silken-soft like Jove
Tempting Europa on the beach.
Each morning when I take my bath
My body's beautiful and white -
But oh I have no appetite!
Wild strawberries or a peach
For me have nothing to teach.
I smoulder like a dying fire,
My native land the hearth.
Peter Russell's Other Poems
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Every night for nine nights Manuela appeared to me in a dream, and each night she spoke a poem to me. I had never seen her before and I have no idea who she was. - P.R.
Comments about this poem (Night The Fifth by Peter Russell )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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(January 6, 1883 – April 10, 1931)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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