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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You and I, in the sere, brown weather,When clouds hang thick in the frowning sky,When rain-tears drip on the bloomless heather,Unheeding the storm-blasts will walk together,And look to each other—You and I.
You and I, in the sere, brown weather,When clouds hang thick in the frowning sky,When rain-tears drip on the bloomless heather,Unheeding the storm-blasts will walk together,And look to each other—You and I.
You and I, when the clouds are shrivenTo show the cliff-broods of lightnings high;When over the ramparts, swift, thunder-driven,Rush the bolts of Hate from a Hell-lit Heaven,Will smile at each other—You and I.
You and I, when the bolts are falling,The hot air torn with the earth's wild cries,Will lean through the darkness where Death is calling,Will search through the shadows where Night is palling,And find the light in each other's eyes.
You and I, when black sheets of waterDrench and tear us and drown our breath,Below this laughter of Hell's own daughter,Above the smoke of the storm-girt slaughter,Will hear each other and gleam at Death.
You and I, in the gray night dying,When over the east-land the dawn-beams fly,Down in the groans, in the low, faint crying,Down where the thick blood is blackly lying,Will reach out our weak arms, You and I.
You and I, in the cold, white weather,When over our corpses the pale lights lie,Will rest at last from the dread endeavor,Pressed to each other, for parting—never!Our dead lips together, You and I.
You and I, when the years in flowingHave left us behind with all things that die,With the rot of our bones shall give soil for growingThe loves of the Future, made sweet for blowingBy the dew of the kiss of a last good-bye! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
- Voltairine de Cleyre 1892
- Voltairine de Cleyre 1892
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francis, fran
thank you for posting a poem. i love poetry.
this one's got the older vibe for sure. well written, honestly very good description of the increasing turmoil a relationship faces over the years.
imo a corny poem though, as most love poems are. treats the whole "You and I" thing so idyllically. like the writer just had a super fat crush on their current partner.
this corniness might change if i found out the writer was old and dying with their partner while writing this.