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More poems by Robinson JeffersRobinson Jeffers | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by Robinson JeffersBooks by Robinson Jeffers

Natural Music

Robinson Jeffers

The old voice of the ocean, the bird-chatter of little rivers,
(Winter has given them gold for silver
To stain their water and bladed green for brown to line their banks)
From different throats intone one language.
So I believe if we were strong enough to listen without
Divisions of desire and terror
To the storm of the sick nations, the rage of the hunger smitten cities,
Those voices also would be found
Clean as a child's; or like some girl's breathing who dances alone
By the ocean-shore, dreaming of lovers. 


Submitted by Holt

Added: 20 May 2003 | Last Read: 14 Dec 2018 9:04 PM | Viewed: 7295 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/9134/ | Viewed on 14 December 2018.
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