new zealand electronic poetry centre


Robin Hyde

Persephone in Winter

In a Glass, Darkly
And the pink smear of faces,
Mud on a city wall,
That shall be legible,
Clearest of all;
Letter by dazzling letter,
Rune of the gravest,
Ankle born without fetter,
Hilt grasped by the bravest.
And the child God nodding
His monstrous head
Crammed with the beggings
Of living and dead,
Penned in His nursery
Padded with cotton-wool
Prayers of the static,
The grasping, the dull,
Shall laugh and grow, maybe,
Like any mother’s baby —
Or standing straight shall walk
Slim as a flower-stalk
To challenge dead and unborn
With a cry like a conch-shell’s horn.


Last updated 21 September, 2003