new zealand electronic poetry centre


Robin Hyde

Persephone in Winter


Someone comes singing through the delft-blue evening,
Through the small dark courtyard of the linden trees,
When stars are tossing on the blue-black lindens,
And a lone wind dances on the leas.
Perhaps it is a gipsy, his dark eyes dazed with moonlight,
He and his tired prick-eared dog a-hunting dreams together,
Out where the nightwind, like a brown baby fox,
Rolls at play and dances on the heather.

Someone comes singing through the delft-blue evening,
Song all opal foam and star-tide-spray;
Song like the sob in the seas throat rising
Where the dark waves glimmer in the bay.
Perhaps it is a sailor, a swarthy Spanish sailor,
He and his yellow parrakeet a-hunting dreams together,
Moon-scent of Roses in a dusk Devon lane,
And a bonnet for his gay flamingo feather.

Someone comes singing through the delft-blue evening,
Dark pipes whisper on poppy-heavy air.
Wild song, wild heart, where are your ways a-going?
Over the crags, into the dawn, wanderer, everywhere.
Perhaps it is the shepherd whose brown cheek glamoured Dian,
He and his dusty starlit flock like moving dreams together,
Moonkiss sleeping cold oer his deep and elfin eyes . . .
Ah hark, how faint the dying song, along the dying heather.



Last updated 24 September, 2003