Poems (Mansfield)/Waves
WAVES
I saw a tiny GodSittingUnder a bright blue UmbrellaThat had white tasselsAnd forked ribs of gold.Below him His little worldLay open to the sun.The shadow of His hatLay upon a city.When he stretched forth His handA lake became a dark tremble.When he kicked up His footIt became night in the mountain passes.
But thou art small!There are gods far greater than thou;They rise and fall,The tumbling gods of the sea.Can thy heart heave such sighs,Such hollow savage cries,Such windy breath,Such groaning death?And can thy arm enfoldThe old,The cold,The changeless dreadful placesWhere the herdsOf horned sea-monstersAnd the screaming birdsGather together?From those silent menThat lie in the penOf our pearly prisons,Canst thou hunt thy prey?Like us canst thou stay Awaiting thine hour,And then rise like a towerAnd crash and shatter?
There are neither trees nor bushesIn my country,Said the tiny God.But there are streamsAnd waterfallsAnd mountain-peaksCovered with lovely weed.There are little shores and safe harbours,Caves for cool and plains for sun and wind.Lovely is the sound of the rivers,Lovely the flashing brightnessOf the lovely peaks.I am content.
But Thy kingdom is small,Said the God of the Sea.Thy kingdom shall fall;I shall not let thee be.Thou art proud!With a loudPealing of laughter,He rose and coveredThe tiny God's landWith the tip of his hand,With the curl of his fingers:And after—
The tiny GodBegan to cry. 1916.