Indeed indeed, I cannot tell,
Though I ponder on it well,
Which were easier to state,
All my love or all my hate.
Surely, surely, thou wilt trust me
When I say thou dost disgust me.
O, I hate thee with a hate
That would fain annihilate;
Yet sometimes against my will,
My dear friend, I love thee still.
It were treason to our love,
And a sin to God above,
One iota to abate
Of a pure impartial hate.
Thoreau was a better writer of prose than of poetry. However, overall, he is one my most admired writers of all time. What I like much better than his poetry is a book of excerpts from his journal, rewritten in lines and preseted as found poetry: All Nature Is My Bride. If had simply written such poetry in his lifetime, he would have beaten Whitman at his own game. Thoreau's prose is very poetic, even the impromptu writings in his journals, from which these found poems are taken. What a master writer he was.
Strong mixed feels between love and hate, I can relate to. I thoroughly enjoyed the reading. Excellent.
Surely, surely, thou wilt trust me When I say thou dost disgust me. No trust does not enter into this equation, hating to the point of annihilating, does not equate to sometimes against my will, / My dear friend, I love thee still. This is more than being of two minds, split personality cannot calm such volatile waters, such an on going love hate relationship of such intensity, would ultimately lead to the hate annihilating persona killing the beloved hated friend in one of the explosive hate cycles; thus killing the one loved, conflict solved in explosive emotive action.
I ponder on it well! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
A dilemma of love and hate, so well portrayed by the poet so nicely. 10++++
Mixed feelings of love and hate, I can relate to your feeling within this poem.