Harmonium (Stevens)/Last Looks at the Lilacs
Last Looks at the Lilacs
To what good, in the alleys of the lilacs,O caliper, do you scratch your buttocksAnd tell the divine ingénue, your companion,That this bloom is the bloom of soapAnd this fragrance the fragrance of vegetal?
Do you suppose that she cares a tick,In this hymeneal air, what it isThat marries her innocence thus,So that her nakedness is near,Or that she will pause at scurrilous words?
Poor buffo! Look at the lavenderAnd look your last and look still steadily,And say how it comes that you seeNothing but trash and that you no longer feelHer body quivering in the Floréal
Toward the cool night and its fantastic star,Prime paramour and belted paragon,Well-booted, rugged, arrogantly male,Patron and imager of the gold Don John,Who will embrace her before summer comes.