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letra de the death bed - harold blumenfeld

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he drowsed and was aware of silence heaped
round him, unshaken as the steadfast walls;
aqueous like floating rays of amber light
soaring and quivering in the wings of sleep
silence and safety; and his mortal shore
lipped by the inward, moonless waves of death

someone was holding water to his mouth
he swallowed, unresisting; moaned and dropped
through crimson gloom to darkness; and forgot
the opiate throb and ache that was his wound
water — calm, sliding green above the weir
water — a sky-lit alley for his boat
bird-voiced, and bordered with reflected flowers
and shaken hues of summer; drifting down
he dipped contented oars, and sighed, and slept
night, with a gust of wind, was in the ward
blowing the curtain to a glimmering curve
night. he was blind; he could not see the stars
glinting among the wraiths of wandering cloud;
queer blots of colour, purple, scarlet, green
fl!ckered and faded in his drowning eyes

rain — he could hear it rustling through the dark;
fragrance and passionless music woven as one;
warm rain on drooping roses; pattering showers
that soak the woods; not the harsh rain that sweeps
behind the thunder, but a trickling peace
gently and slowly washing life away

– – – –

he stirred, shifting his body; then the pain
leapt like a prowling beast, and gripped and tore
his groping dreams with grinding claws and fangs
but someone was beside him; soon he lay
shuddering because that evil thing had passed
and death, who’d stepped toward him, paused and stared

light many lamps and gather round his bed
lend him your eyes, warm blood, and will to live
speak to him; rouse him; you may save him yet
he’s young; he hated war; how should he die
when cruel old campaigners win safe through?
but death replied: “i choose him.” so he went
and there was silence in the summer night;
silence and safety; and the veils of sleep
then, far away, the thudding of the guns

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