Dark August by Derek Walcott
1. So much rain, so much life like the swollen sky
2. of this black August. My sister, the sun,
3. broods in her yellow room and won't come out.
4. Everything goes to hell; the mountains fume
5. like a kettle, rivers overrun; still,
6. she will not rise and turn off the rain.
7. She is in her room, fondling old things,
8. my poems, turning her album. Even if thunder falls
9. like a crash of plates from the sky.
10. she does not come out.
11. Don't you know I love you but am hopeless
12. at fixing the rain? But I am learning slowly
13. to love the dark days, the steaming hills,
14. the air with gossiping mosquitoes,
15. and to sip the medicine of bitterness,
16. so that when you emerge, my sister,
17. parting the beads of rain,
18. with your forehead of flowers and eyes of forgiveness,
19. all will not be as it was, but it will be true
20. (you see they will not let me love
21. as I want), because, my sister, then
22. I would have learnt to love black days like bright ones,
23. The black rain, the white hills, when once
24. I loved only my happiness and you.
Walcott, Derek. "Dark August - Derek Walcott." Poemhunter.com. N.p., n.d. Web. 14 June 2016.
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