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Cassandra

The mad girl with the staring eyes and long white fingers

Hooked in the stones of the wall,

The storm-wrack hair and screeching mouth: does it matter, Cassandra,

Whether the people believe

Your bitter fountain? Truly men hate the truth, they'd liefer

Meet a tiger on the road.

Therefore the poets honey their truth with lying; but religion—

Vendors and political men

by Robinson Jeffers

To The Stone-Cutters

Stone-cutters fighting time with marble, you fore defeated

Challengers of oblivion

Eat cynical earnings, knowing rock splits, records fall down,

The square-limbed Roman letters

Scale in the thaws, wear in the rain. The poet as well

Builds his monument mockingly;

For man will be blotted out, the blithe earth die, the brave sun

Die blind and blacken to the heart:

by Robinson Jeffers

The Great Explosion

The universe expands and contracts like a great heart.

It is expanding, the farthest nebulae

Rush with the speed of light into empty space.

It will contract, the immense navies of stars and galaxies,

dust clouds and nebulae

Are recalled home, they crush against each other in one

harbor, they stick in one lump

And then explode it, nothing can hold them down; there is no

by Robinson Jeffers

Hurt Hawks

The broken pillar of the wing jags from the clotted shoulder,

The wing trails like a banner in defeat,

No more to use the sky forever but live with famine

And pain a few days: cat nor coyote

Will shorten the week of waiting for death, there is game without talons.

He stands under the oak-bush and waits

The lame feet of salvation; at night he remembers freedom

by Robinson Jeffers

Summer Holiday

When the sun shouts and people abound

One thinks there were the ages of stone and the age of

bronze

And the iron age; iron the unstable metal;

Steel made of iron, unstable as his mother; the tow-

ered-up cities

Will be stains of rust on mounds of plaster.

Roots will not pierce the heaps for a time, kind rains

by Robinson Jeffers

Carmel Point

The extraordinary patience of things!

This beautiful place defaced with a crop of suburban houses-

How beautiful when we first beheld it,

Unbroken field of poppy and lupin walled with clean cliffs;

No intrusion but two or three horses pasturing,

Or a few milch cows rubbing their flanks on the outcrop rockheads-

Now the spoiler has come: does it care?

Not faintly. It has all time. It knows the people are a tide

by Robinson Jeffers

Return

A little too abstract, a little too wise,

It is time for us to kiss the earth again,

It is time to let the leaves rain from the skies,

Let the rich life run to the roots again.

I will go to the lovely Sur Rivers

And dip my arms in them up to the shoulders.

I will find my accounting where the alder leaf quivers

In the ocean wind over the river boulders.

by Robinson Jeffers

Shine, Perishing Republic

While this America settles in the mould of its vulgarity, heavily thickening to empire

And protest, only a bubble in the molten mass, pops and sighs out, and the mass hardens,

I sadly smiling remember that the flower fades to make fruit, the fruit rots to make earth.

Out of the mother; and through the spring exultances, ripeness and decadence; and home to the mother.

You making haste haste on decay: not blameworthy; life is good, be it stubbornly long or suddenly

A mortal splendor: meteors are not needed less than mountains: shine, perishing republic.

But for my children, I would have them keep their distance from the thickening center; corruption

by Robinson Jeffers

Love The Wild Swan

"I hate my verses, every line, every word.

Oh pale and brittle pencils ever to try

One grass-blade's curve, or the throat of one bird

That clings to twig, ruffled against white sky.

Oh cracked and twilight mirrors ever to catch

One color, one glinting

Hash, of the splendor of things.

Unlucky hunter, Oh bullets of wax,

by Robinson Jeffers

Rock And Hawk

Here is a symbol in which

Many high tragic thoughts

Watch their own eyes.

This gray rock, standing tall

On the headland, where the seawind

Lets no tree grow,

Earthquake-proved, and signatured

By ages of storms: on its peak

by Robinson Jeffers

Meditation On Saviors

When I considered it too closely, when I wore it like an element

and smelt it like water,

Life is become less lovely, the net nearer than the skin, a

little troublesome, a little terrible.

I pledged myself awhile ago not to seek refuge, neither in death

nor in a walled garden,

In lies nor gated loyalties, nor in the gates of contempt, that

by Robinson Jeffers

Contemplation Of The Sword

Reason will not decide at last; the sword will decide.

The sword: an obsolete instrument of bronze or steel,

formerly used to kill men, but here

In the sense of a symbol. The sword: that is: the storms

and counter-storms of general destruction; killing

of men,

Destruction of all goods and materials; massacre, more or

less intentional, of children and women;

by Robinson Jeffers