I hadn't planned this post, but today's piece on Limebirds (
Say What?), on favorite quotes by writers on writing made me think of this poem by Robert Graves. It has nothing directly to do with writing, but it has a good deal to say about birthdays, especially if you're getting older. I used to have it printed up in large type and hung above my computer, until I ran out of space on my bulletin board. (Source: Collected Poems, 1975. New York,Oxford University Press, 1988 [c1975] p. 196)
The Twin of Sleep
Death is the twin of Sleep,
they say:
For I
shall rise renewed,
Free from the cramps of yesterday,
Clear-eyed and supple-thewed.
But though this bland analogy
Helps
other folk to face
Decrepitude, senility,
Madness,
disease, disgrace,
I do not like Death’s greedy looks:
Give me
his twin instead –
Sleep never auctions off my books,
My boots,
my shirts, my bed.
I love this poem! And happy belated birthday. Glad I found your blog.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Mary, I'm glad I found yours, too! I've had only three pageviews on this and one of those was Jack! Nobody reads poetry these days - sigh! - even humorous poetry. You might also try my other blog http://termitespeaker.blogspot.com, which is devoted to my projected series of books The Labors of Ki'shto'ba Huge-Head (I'm retelling Greek myths from the viewpoint of my termite people).
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