Easter was the old North
Goddess of the dawn.
She rises daily in the East
And yearly in spring for the great
Paschal candle of the sun.
Her name lingers like a spot
Of gravy in the figured vestment
Of the language of the Britains.
Her totem the randy bunny.
Our very Thursdays and Wednesdays
Are stained by syllables of thunder
And Woden's frenzy.
O my fellow-patriots loyal to this
Our modern world of high heels,
Vaccination, brain surgery—
May they pass over us, the old
Jovial raptors, Apollonian flayers,
Crucifixion. Supper of encrypted
Dishes: bitter, unrisen, a platter
Compass of martyrdom,
Ground-up apples and walnuts
In sweet wine to embody mortar
Of affliction, babies for bricks.
Legible traces of the species
That devises the angel of death
Sailing over our doorpost
Smeared with sacrifice.
Robert Pinsky's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Paschal by Robert Pinsky )
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
- Eternal Wings of Love, Pintu Mahakul
- Lost, Yasin Engno
- THE PRETTY SUN, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- March against austerity, Bob Johnson
- To remain peaceful, hasmukh amathalal
- Broken, Yasin Engno
- Of War and Peace, Shruti Goswami
- Realizations of a whore, Shruti Goswami
- Promises, Shruti Goswami
- Wonders Of Wondering, david kush