Sunday, January 3, 2010

The Ivy Crown

The Ivy Crown
by William Carlos Williams

Romance has no part in it.
The business of love is
cruelty which,
by our wills,
we transform
to live together.
It has seasons,
for and against,
whatever the heart
fumbles in the dark
to assert
toward the end of May.
Just as the nature of briars
is to tear the flesh,
I have proceeded
through them.
the briars out,
they say.
You cannot live
and keep free of


At our age the imagination
across the sorry facts
lifts us
to make roses
stand before thorns
love is cruel
and selfish
and totally obtuse
at least, blinded by light,
young love is.
But we are older,
I to love
and you to be loved,
We have
no matter how,
by our wills survived
to keep
the jeweled prize
at our finger tips.
We will it so
and so it is
past all accident.

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