FRAGMENT 68
. . . even in the house of Hades. --Sappho 1 I envy you your chance of death, how I envy you this. I am more covetous of him even than of your glance, I wish more from his presence though he torture me in a grasp, terrible, intense. Though he clasp me in an embrace that is set against my will and rack me with his measure, effortless yet full of strength, and slay me in that most horrible contest, still, how I envy you your chance. Through he pierce me--imperious-- iron--fever--dust-- though beauty is slain when I perish, I envy you death. What is beauty to me? has she not slain me enough, have I not cried in agony of love, birth, hate, in pride crushed? What is left after this? what can death loose in me after your embrace? your touch, your limbs are more terrible to do me hurt. What can death mar in me that you have not? 2 What can death send me that you have not? you gathered violets, you spoke: "your hair is not less black, nor less fragrant. nor in your eyes is less light, your hair is not less sweet with purple in the lift of lock;" why were those slight words and the violets you gathered of such worth? How I envy you death; what could death bring, more black, more set with sparks to slay, to affright, than the memory of those first violets, the chance lift of your voice, the chance blinding frenzy as you bent? 3 So the goddess has slain me for your chance smile and my scarf unfolding as you stooped to it; so she trapped me with upward sweep of your arm as you lifted the veil, and the swift smile and selfless. Could I have known? nay, spare pity, though I break, crushed under the goddess' hate, though I fall beaten at last, so high have I thrust my glance up into her presence. Do not pity me, spare that, but how I envy you your chance of death. --Hilda Doolittle (19??) |
Copyright © 1982 by the Estate of Hilda Doolittle. Used with permission of New Directions Publishing Corporation. All rights reserved. No part of this poem may be reproduced in any form without the written consent of the publisher. Eurydice . . . Mysteries Remain . . . Pear Tree . . . Sea Poppies . . . Sea Rose |