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Katherine Mansfield (1888-1923)
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| The Opal Dream Cave
Across the Red Sky The Awakening River Camomile Tea Countrywomen Covering Wings Firelight The Opal Dream CaveIn an opal dream cave I found a fairy:Her wings were frailer than flower petals, Frailer far than snowflakes. She was not frightened, but poised on my finger, Then delicately walked into my hand. I shut the two palms of my hands together And held her prisoner. I carried her out of the opal cave, Then opened my hands. First she became thistledown, Then a mote in a sunbeam, Then--nothing at all. Empty now is my opal dream cave. Across the Red SkyAcross the red sky two birds flying,Flying with drooping wings. Silent and solitary their ominous flight. All day the triumphant sun with yellow banners Warred and warred with the earth, and when she yielded Stabbed her heart, gathered her blood in a chalice, Spilling it over the evening sky. When the dark plumaged birds go flying, flying, Quiet lies the earth wrapt in her mournful shadow, Her sightless eyes turned to the red sky And the restlessly seeking birds. The Awakening RiverThe gulls are mad-in-love with the river, And the river unveils her face and smiles. In her sleep-brooding eyes they mirror their shining wings. She lies on silver pillows: the sun leans over her. He warms and warms her, he kisses and kisses her. There are sparks in her hair and she stirs in laughter. Be careful, my beautiful waking one! You will catch on fire. Wheeling and flying with the foam of the sea on their breasts, The ineffable mists of the sea clinging to their wild wings, Crying the rapture of the boundless ocean, The gulls are mad-in-love with the river. Wake! we are the dream thoughts flying form your heart. Wake! we are the songs of desire flowing from your bosom. O, I think the sun will lend her his great wings And the river will fly to the sea with the mad-in- love birds. Camomile TeaOutside the sky is light with stars;There's a hollow roaring from the sea. And, alas! for the little almond flowers, The wind is shaking the almond tree. How little I thought, a year ago, In the horrible cottage upon the Lee That he and I should be sitting so And sipping a cup of camomile tea. Light as feathers the witches fly, The horn of the moon is plain to see; By a firefly under a jonquil flower A goblin toasts a bumble-bee. We might be fifty, we might be five, So snug, so compact, so wise are we! Under the kitchen-table leg My knee is pressing against his knee. Our shutters are shut, the fire is low, The tap is dripping peacefully; The saucepan shadows on the wall Are black and round and plain to see. CountrywomenThese be twoCountrywomen. What a size! Grand big arms And round red faces; Big substantial Sit-down-places; Great big bosoms firm as cheese Bursting through their country jackets; Wide big laps And sturdy knees; Hands outspread, Round and rosy, Hands to hold A country posy Or a baby or a lamb-- And such eyes! Stupid, shifty, small and sly Peeping through a slit of sty, Squinting through their neighbours' plackets. Covering WingsLove! Love! Your tenderness,Your beautiful, watchful ways Grasp me, fold me, cover me; I lie in a kind of daze, Neither asleep nor yet awake, Neither a bud nor flower. Brings to-morrow Joy or sorrow, The black or the golden hour? Love! Love! You pity me so! Chide me, scold me--cry, "Submit--submit! You must not fight!" What may I do, then? Die? But, oh my horror of quiet beds! How can I longer stay! "One to be ready, Two to be steady, Three to be off and away!" Darling heart--your gravity! Your sorrowful, mournful gaze-- "Two bleached roads lie under the moon, At the parting of the ways." But the tiny, tree-thatched, narrow lane, Isn't it yours and mine? The blue-bells ring Hey, ding-a-ding, ding! And buds are thick on the vine. Love! Love! Grief of my heart! As a tree droops over a stream You hush me, lull me, dark me, The shadow hiding the gleam. Your drooping and tragical boughs of grace Are heavy as though with rain. Run! Run! Into the sun! Let us be children again. FirelightPlaying in the fire and twilight together,My little son and I, Suddenly--woefully--I stoop to catch him. "Try, mother, try!" Old Nurse Silence lifts a silent finger: "Hush! cease your play!" What happened? What in that tiny moment Flew away? |
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