Year 12 | 28 January 2020 | firstname.lastname@example.org
Leave no balconies where you can climb; nor milk-white bosoms where you can rest; nor wine cups while the wine is sweet
I would I had thrust my hands of flesh
Into the disk-flowers bee-infested,
Into the mirror-like core of fire
Of the light of life, the sun of delight.
For what are anthers worth or petals
Or halo-rays? Mockeries, shadows
Of the heart of the flower, the central flame!
All is yours, young passer-by;
Enter the banquet room with the thought;
Don’t sidle in as if you were doubtful
Whether you’re welcome – the feast is yours!
Nor take but a little, refusing more
With a bashfull “Tank you”, when you’re hungry.
Is your soul alive? Then let it feed!
Leave no balconies where you can climb;
Nor milk-white bosoms where you can rest;
Nor golden heads with pillows to share;
Nor wine cups while the wine is sweet;
Nor ecstasies of body or soul,
You will die, no doubt, but die while living
In depths of azure, rapt and mated,
Kissing the queen-bee, Life!
Edgar Lee Masters
Source: Edgar Lee Master, Spoon River Anthology, Touchstone Books:
by L. C.
03 august 2009, Food Notes > Food Tourism