new zealand electronic poetry centre

 

Robin Hyde


Persephone in Winter
 

Rain in the Night
 
 
Speak for me, rain in the night. I have said overmuch,
And of trivial things;
Surely there must be a city of silence for such
As are humble with grasses and wings,
And who never walk in the crowd, without that backward-turning
Glance which should spell the love of man, if only
The heart of man were not a strange thing and a lonely,
A banked fire slowly burning.

Listen, for this is the truth. Once on a thyme-steeped hill
There was a harp, and wild music. No harpist was there.
I had come upon Godís minstrelsy unaware,
Therefore with blind hands I fumble the chords of beauty, until
Their meaning shall ripple clear;
Rain in the night ó torrents of amber, of crystal and blue ó
You are the harp-strings, you.
Speak for me, rain in the night; it is sweet to lie still.

 


 


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Last updated 24 September, 2003