The Poetry Corner

A Bad Beginning

By D. H. Lawrence (David Herbert Richards)

The yellow sun steps over the mountain-top And falters a few short steps across the lake - Are you awake? See, glittering on the milk-blue, morning lake They are laying the golden racing-track of the sun; The day has begun. The sun is in my eyes, I must get up. I want to go, there's a gold road blazes before My breast - which is so sore. What? - your throat is bruised, bruised with my kisses? Ah, but if I am cruel what then are you? I am bruised right through. What if I love you! - This misery Of your dissatisfaction and misprision Stupefies me. Ah yes, your open arms! Ah yes, ah yes, You would take me to your breast! - But no, You should come to mine, It were better so. Here I am - get up and come to me! Not as a visitor either, nor a sweet And winsome child of innocence; nor As an insolent mistress telling my pulse's beat. Come to me like a woman coming home To the man who is her husband, all the rest Subordinate to this, that he and she Are joined together for ever, as is best. Behind me on the lake I hear the steamer drumming From Austria. There lies the world, and here Am I. Which way are you coming?