Morning - Poem by William Fay
The pallid lizard, we cannot shake, clings still,
Like moonlight, to the craggy villa wall.
You lie coiled, like the spiral shell,
Tossed upon the surf; the brick red sand stain,
Upon your feet, upon the white bed sheet,
Slung like a corpse upon the floor.
Yes, all night you have clawed your way,
Restless, through the great hall of Erebus;
Your dream, Baltic set, of the frozen horse,
The gray steeple above the swampy reservoir.
At your throat the skins scarlet flush flames,
Off and on, through your nights travails,
The incessant pain of the swelling knee.
Now morning has come. Wake up! Return to us;
Close the gate, forget the ghost you saw.
We are free, let go my bloodless hand, know
The flowers appear on the earth;
the time of the singing of birds has come.
Hear the scrape and clank of chains,
Of an anchor dragged up from the sea floor.
In the citron tree, by the blue door,
Hear the sweet lark sing,
In far Kastro,
Hear the cathedral bell ring.
Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Comments about Morning by William Fay
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You