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Sad, Katherine Mansfield, in English Clear filters

SadKatherine Mansfield

The Sea Child

Into the world you sent her, mother, Fashioned her body of coral and foam, Combed a wave in her hair’s warm smother, And drove her away from home. In the dark of the night she crept to the town And under a doorway she laid her down, The little blue child in the foam-fringed gown. And never a sister and never a brother To hear her call, to answer her cry. Her face shone out from her hair’s warm smother Like a moonkin up in the sky. She sold her corals; she sold her foam; Her rainbow heart like a singing shell Broke in her body: she crept back home. Peace, go back to the world, my daughter, Daughter, go back to the darkling land;
SadKatherine Mansfield

The Man with the Wooden Leg

There was a man lived quite near us; He had a wooden leg and a goldfinch in a green cage. His name was Farkey Anderson, And he’d been in a war to get his leg. We were very sad about him, Because he had such a beautiful smile And was such a big man to live in a very small house. When he walked on the road his leg did not matter so much; But when he walked in his little house It made an ugly noise. Little Brother said his goldfinch sang the loudest of all birds, So that he should not hear his poor leg And feel too sorry about it.
SadKatherine Mansfield

Winter Song

Rain and wind, and wind and rain. Will the Summer come again? Rain on houses, on the street, Wetting all the people’s feet. Though they run with might and main. Rain and wind, and wind and rain. Snow and sleet, and sleet and snow. Will the Winter never go? What do beggar children do With no fire to cuddle to, P’raps with nowhere warm to go? Snow and sleet, and sleet and snow. Hail and ice, and ice and hail, Water frozen in the pail. See the robins, brown and red, They are waiting to be fed.
SadKatherine Mansfield

Song of Karen, the Dancing Child

(O little white feet of mine) Out in the storm and the rain you fly; (Red, red shoes the colour of wine) Can the children hear my cry? (O little white feet of mine) Never a child in the whole great town; (Red, red shoes the colour of wine) Lights out and the blinds pulled down. (O little white feet of mine) Never a light on a window pane, (Red, red shoes the colour of wine) And the wild wet cry of the rain. (O little white feet of mine) Shall I never again be still? (Red, red shoes the colour of wine) And away over valley and hill.
SadKatherine Mansfield

The Wounded Bird

In the wide bed Under the green embroidered quilt With flowers and leaves always in soft motion She is like a wounded bird resting on a pool. The hunter threw his dart And hit her breast,-- Hit her but did not kill. “O my wings, lift me--lift me! I am not dreadfully hurt!” Down she dropped and was still. Kind people come to the edge of the pool with baskets. “Of course what the poor bird wants is plenty of food!” Their bags and pockets are crammed almost to bursting With dinner scrapings and scraps from the servants’ lunch. Oh! how pleased they are to be really giving! “In the past, you know you know, you were always so fly-away.
SadKatherine Mansfield

Sorrowing Love

And again the flowers are come And the light shakes, And no tiny voice is dumb, And a bud breaks On the humble bush and the proud restless tree. Come with me! Look, this little flower is pink, And this one white. Here’s a pearl cup for your drink, Here’s for your delight A yellow one, sweet with honey, Here’s fairy money Silver bright Scattered over the grass As we pass. Here’s moss. How the smell of it lingers
SadKatherine Mansfield

To L. H. B. (1894–1915)

Last night for the first time since you were dead I walked with you, my brother, in a dream. We were at home again beside the stream Fringed with tall berry bushes, white and red. “Don’t touch them: they are poisonous,” I said. But your hand hovered, and I saw a beam Of strange, bright laughter flying round your head And as you stooped I saw the berries gleam. “Don’t you remember? We called them Dead Man’s Bread!” I woke and heard the wind moan and the roar Of the dark water tumbling on the shore. Where--where is the path of my dream for my eager feet? By the remembered stream my brother stands Waiting for me with berries in his hands ... “These are my body. Sister, take and eat.”
SadKatherine Mansfield

Across the Red Sky

Across the red sky two birds flying, Flying with drooping wings. Silent and solitary their ominous flight. All day the triumphant sun with yellow banners Warred and warred with the earth, and when she yielded Stabbed her heart, gathered her blood in a chalice, Spilling it over the evening sky. When the dark plumaged birds go flying, flying, Quiet lies the earth wrapt in her mournful shadow, Her sightless eyes turned to the red sky And the restlessly seeking birds.
SadKatherine Mansfield

The Meeting

We started speaking, Looked at each other, then turned away. The tears kept rising to my eyes But I could not weep. I wanted to take your hand But my hand trembled. You kept counting the days Before we should meet again. But both of us felt in our hearts That we parted for ever and ever. The ticking of the little clock filled the quiet room. “Listen,” I said. “It is so loud, Like a horse galloping on a lonely road, As loud as that--a horse galloping past in the night.” You shut me up in your arms. But the sound of the clock stifled our hearts’ beating.
SadKatherine Mansfield

Loneliness

Now it is Loneliness who comes at night Instead of Sleep, to sit beside my bed. Like a tired child I lie and wait her tread, I watch her softly blowing out the light. Motionless sitting, neither left nor right She turns, and weary, weary droops her head. She, too, is old; she, too, has fought the fight. So, with the laurel she is garlanded. Through the sad dark the slowly ebbing tide Breaks on a barren shore, unsatisfied. A strange wind flows ... then silence. I am fain To turn to Loneliness, to take her hand, Cling to her, waiting, till the barren land Fills with the dreadful monotone of rain.

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