Poetry
THE TRUE, THE GOOD, AND THE BEAUTIFUL*
HE HEARD THE NEWSBOYS SHOUTING "EUROPE! EUROPE!"
Dear Citizens,
I heard the newsboys shouting "Europe! Europe!"
It was late afternoon, a winter's day
Long as a prairie, wool and ashen gray,
And then I heard the silence, drop by drop,
And knew I must again confront myself:
"What shall I cry from my window?" I asked myself,
"What shall I say to the citizens below?
Since I have been a
privileged character
These four years past. Since I have been excused
From the war for the lesser evil, merciless
As
the years to girls who once were beautiful.
What have I done which is a little good?
What apples have I grasped, for all my years?
What starlight have I glimpsed for all my guilt?"
Then to the dead silence I said, in hope:
"I am a student of the morning light,
And of the evil native to
th~
heart.
I am a pupil of emotion's wrongs
Performed upon the glory of this world.
Myself I dedicated long ago
-Or prostituted, shall I say?-to poetry,
The true, the good, and the beautiful,
Infinite fountains inexhaustible,
Full as the sea, old as the rocks,
new as the breaking surf-"
*
This is a passage from a longer poem.
