Poems (Eliot, 1920)/Sweeney Among the Nightingales
For other versions of this work, see Sweeney Among the Nightingales.
Sweeney Among the Nightingales
ὤμοι, πέπληγμαι καιρίαν πληγὴν ἔσω.
Apeneck Sweeney spreads his kneesLetting his arms hang down to laugh,The zebra stripes along his jawSwelling to maculate giraffe.
The circles of the stormy moonSlide westward toward the River Plate,Death and the Raven drift aboveAnd Sweeney guards the horned gate.
Gloomy Orion and the DogAre veiled; and hushed the shrunken seas;The person in the Spanish capeTries to sit on Sweeney's knees
Slips and pulls the table clothOverturns a coffee-cup,Reorganized upon the floorShe yawns and draws a stocking up;
The silent man in mocha brownSprawls at the window-sill and gapes; The waiter brings in orangesBananas figs and hothouse grapes;
The silent vertebrate in brownContracts and concentrates, withdraws;Rachel née RabinovitchTears at the grapes with murderous paws;
She and the lady in the capeAre suspect, thought to be in league;Therefore the man with heavy eyesDeclines the gambit, shows fatigue,
Leaves the room and reappearsOutside the window, leaning in,Branches of wistariaCircumscribe a golden grin;
The host with someone indistinctConverses at the door apart,The nightingales are singing nearThe Convent of the Sacred Heart,
And sang within the bloody woodWhen Agamemnon cried aloud,And let their liquid droppings fallTo stain the stiff dishonoured shroud.