A Memory Of The Players In A Mirror At Midnight Poem by James Joyce
A Memory Of The Players In A Mirror At Midnight
They mouth love's language. Gnash
The thirteen teeth
Your lean jaws grin with. Lash
Your itch and quailing, nude greed of the flesh.
Love's breath in you is stale, worded or sung,
As sour as cat's breath,
Harsh of tongue.
This grey that stares
Lies not, stark skin and bone.
Leave greasy lips their kissing. None
Will choose her what you see to mouth upon.
Dire hunger holds his hour.
Pluck forth your heart, saltblood, a fruit of tears.
Pluck and devour!
Seize the day grab the brass ring and live to love.a ten..
CONGRATULATIONS as Classic Poem Of The Day, JJ the famous Only One.
This is a beautiful poem on love having fascinating expression.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/5/2024 9:41:10 AM # 1.0.0
Clever and nippy for Joyce- a little bit cat got your tongue.