Cassandra Poem by Robinson Jeffers

Cassandra

Rating: 2.9


The mad girl with the staring eyes and long white fingers
Hooked in the stones of the wall,
The storm-wrack hair and screeching mouth: does it matter, Cassandra,
Whether the people believe
Your bitter fountain? Truly men hate the truth, they'd liefer
Meet a tiger on the road.
Therefore the poets honey their truth with lying; but religion—
Vendors and political men
Pour from the barrel, new lies on the old, and are praised for kindly
Wisdom. Poor bitch be wise.
No: you'll still mumble in a corner a crust of truth, to men
And gods disgusting—you and I, Cassandra.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Dan Jensen 11 June 2016

The text of this poem has not been recorded correctly here. Line 9 should end with kindly instead of kind. I have checked several authoritative sources on this to confirm.

3 1 Reply
Janet Briggs 15 September 2017

Looks like it's been fixed. Thanks.

0 0 Reply

Robinson Jeffers

Allegheny, Pennsylvania
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