Poem of the Day

It’s amazing how much you can read when you’re 1) stuck in an airport or 2) on a plane. Today I read The Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane. I’m rather embarrassed to admit that I’d not read it before. A line in it reminded me this short poem. Here’s another for today.

Behold, the grave of a wicked man
By Stephen Crane

Behold, the grave of a wicked man,
And near it, a stern spirit.
There came a drooping maid with violets,
But the spirit grasped her arm.
“No flowers for him,” he said.
The maid wept:
“Ah, I loved him.”
But the spirit, grim and frowning:
“No flowers for him.”

Now, this is it—
If the spirit was just,
Why did the maid weep?

I’m reading The Flanders Panel by Arturo Pérez-Reverte and it’s about the murder of a knight 500 years ago. Then I came across this poem, so I had to post it.

Fast rode the knight
By Stephen Crane

Fast rode the knight
With spurs, hot and reeking,
Ever waving an eager sword,
“To save my lady!”
Fast rode the knight,
And leaped from saddle to war.
Men of steel flickered and gleamed
Like riot of silver lights,
And the gold of the knight’s good banner
Still waved on a castle wall.
.    .    .    .    .    .
A horse,
Blowing, staggering, bloody thing,
Forgotten at foot of castle wall.
A horse
Dead at foot of castle wall.

Stephen Crane seems to write a lot of short, yet poignant poems.

I explain the silvered passing of a ship at night
By Stephen Crane

I explain the silvered passing of a ship at night,
The sweep of each sad lost wave,
The dwindling boom of the steel thing’s striving,
The little cry of a man to a man,
A shadow falling across the greyer night,
And the sinking of the small star;
Then the waste, the far waste of waters,
And the soft lashing of black waves
For long and in loneliness.

Remember, thou, O ship of love,
Thou leavest a far waste of waters,
And the soft lashing of black waves
For long and in loneliness.

I always liked this one. Short and sweet.

A Man Said to the Universe
By Stephen Crane

A man said to the universe:
“Sir I exist!”
“However,” replied the universe,
“The fact has not created in me
A sense of obligation.”