She even thinks that up in Heaven,
Her class lies late and snores
While poor Black cherubs rise at seven
To do celestial chores . . .
(American poet Countee Cullen)
August 10, 2008
Quote of the Day
2 Comments »
RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URL
The very mention of the poet Countee Cullen instantly inspires recollection of the astonishing and beautiful album “Baptism” by Joan Baez, that I first listened to in Moscow in the late 1960s. Accompanied by musical arrangements by Peter Schickele, Baez reads Cullen’s poem “Epitaph for a Poet,” which, despite my porous memory, I have consistently been able to recite from memory to this day. The fact I recall this simple yet powerful poem so well reveals how much it expresses how I feel about experiences that are of ultimate, precious value in life, yet are too fragile and vulnerable to be exposed to the ugly realities of human existence as it is:
Epitaph for a Poet
I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth,
And laid them away in a box of gold;
Where long will cling the lips of the moth.
I hide no hate; I am not even wroth
Who found earth’s breath so keen and cold;
I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth,
And laid them away in a box of gold.
———–
Ted Moffett
Comment by Ted Moffett — August 11, 2008 @ 5:12 am
Ted, that’s just beautiful, and I so appreciate your sharing it with me. The beauty of his words rings in my heart, and I’ll carry “Epitaph” with me for the rest of my life. Thank you, my friend.
Keely
Comment by Keely Emerine Mix — August 11, 2008 @ 1:16 pm