Verse > Anthologies > Harriet Monroe, ed. > Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1912–22
Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936).  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse.  1912–22.
By Albert Ehrenstein
From “Modern German Poems”
Translated by Babette Deutsch and Avrahm Yarmolinsky

I SANG the songs of red revenge,
And I sang the stillness of wood-shadowed waters.
But no one companioned me—
Rigid, lonely,
As the locust sings to itself,        5
To myself I sang my song.
Now my steps vanish, grown faint
In the sands of lassitude.
For weariness my eyes are failing me,
I am tired of comfortless fords,        10
Of sea-crossing, of girls, of streets;
At the gulf’s edge I do not remember
The shields and the spears.
Blown upon by birches,
By winds overshadowed,        15
I fall asleep to the sound of a harp
Whose music
Joyfully drips from under another’s fingers.
I do not stir,
For all thoughts and all acts        20
Trouble the limpid eyes of the world.

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