September 9, 2015
September 6, 2015
September 1, 2015
Geoffrey Hill - September Song
Undesirable you may have been, untouchable
you were not. Not forgotten
or passed over at the proper time.
you were not. Not forgotten
or passed over at the proper time.
As estimated, you died. Things marched,
sufficient, to that end.
Just so much Zyklon and leather, patented
terror, so many routine cries.
sufficient, to that end.
Just so much Zyklon and leather, patented
terror, so many routine cries.
(I have made
an elegy for myself it
is true)
an elegy for myself it
is true)
September fattens on vines. Roses
flake from the wall. The smoke
of harmless fires drifts to my eyes.
This is plenty. This is more than enough.
— from New and Collected Poems, 1952-1992
flake from the wall. The smoke
of harmless fires drifts to my eyes.
This is plenty. This is more than enough.
— from New and Collected Poems, 1952-1992
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