For a Fatherless Son
de Sylvia Plath(2005)
1 min lectură
Mediu
You will be aware of an absence, presently,
Growing beside you, like a tree,
A death tree, color gone, an Australian gum tree ---
Balding, gelded by lightning--an illusion,
And a sky like a pig\'s backside, an utter lack of attention.
But right now you are dumb.
And I love your stupidity,
The blind mirror of it. I look in
And find no face but my own, and you think that\'s funny.
It is good for me
To have you grab my nose, a ladder rung.
One day you may touch what\'s wrong ---
The small skulls, the smashed blue hills, the godawful hush.
Till then your smiles are found money.