The acrid scents of autumn, 
Reminiscent of slinking beasts, make me fear 
Everything, tear-trembling stars of autumn 
And the snore of the night in my ear. 

For suddenly, flush-fallen, 
All my life, in a rush 
Of shedding away, has left me 
Naked, exposed on the bush. 

I, on the bush of the globe, 
Like a newly-naked berry, shrink
Disclosed: but I also am prowling 
As well in the scents that slink 

Abroad: I in this naked berry 
Of flesh that stands dismayed on the bush;
And I in the stealthy, brindled odours
Prowling about the lush 

And acrid night of autumn; 
My soul, along with the rout, 
Rank and treacherous, prowling,
Disseminated out.

For the night, with a great breath intaken,
Has taken my spirit outside 
Me, till I reel with disseminated consciousness,
Like a man who has died. 

At the same time I stand exposed
Here on the bush of the globe, 
A newly-naked berry of flesh 
For the stars to probe. 

Added: Mar 18 2005 | Viewed: 720 times | Comments (0)

Poet: D.H. Lawrence
Poem: Dolor of Autumn

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