Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Fade/Where the Pac-Men are Made








Farewell, fair day and fading light! 
The clay-born here, with westward sight, 
Marks the huge sun now downward soar. 
Farewell. We twain shall meet no more. 

Farewell. I watch with bursting sigh 
My late contemned occasion die. 
I linger useless in my tent: 
Farewell, fair day, so foully spent! 

Farewell, fair day. If any God 
At all consider this poor clod, 
He who the fair occasion sent 
Prepared and placed the impediment. 

Let him diviner vengeance take - 
Give me to sleep, give me to wake 
Girded and shod, and bid me play 
The hero in the coming day!

(Robert Louis Stevenson.)

Note: When I first read this poem I thought it said Robert Frost, then I read it again and see that it is not only not by Robert Frost, but it is much about death, perhaps even war. Perhaps not the nuance I was seeking.