LA CRUCHE CASSEE
HE waterpot is broken at the well.
Forth rush the waters, bubbling from the brim,
Curling and coiling round the riven rim,
Lost beyond hope; and she, her sighs upswell,
And sorrow shakes her: shame’s oblivious hell
Burns round her body: in her eyes there swim
Tears of deep joy, deep anguish; love's first hymn
Is choral in her ear’s young miracle.
She knows the utmost now: what waters white
She held from heaven’s crystal fountains; flight
Of what celestial birds struck down:—Ah me!
What god or demigod hath struck remorse
Into that close-crouched, cold, and desolate corse,
Wailing her violate virginity ?
SY / I