Category: Poetry

An Indian Ass

Acton, Harold, 1904-1994· 3 chapters· 9,838 words

Now fogs enfold the sea And berries fall from eaves, The cat’s eyes glitter green into the dark. The sloping hills of myrrh, The trees with tender anise overweighed, The pointed flag-leaves stir Only to weep again, Only to sob and mourn Adonis dead.

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Chapters

1. Part 1

Now fogs enfold the sea And berries fall from eaves, The cat’s eyes glitter green into the dark. The sloping hills of myrrh, The trees with tender anise overweighed, The pointed...

2. Part 2

Then why not, like Empedocles, Lower our limbs into volcano-craters, And make the world believe that mighty God Translated us into His company On dolphins’ backs across a nectar...

3. Part 3

In mental constipation shivering, He went into the fields, where he could sing To ease the sobbing of his plangent mind, With desolate, cracked voice, for they were kind. The sk...