Poem by Stephen Crane

* * *

Many red devils ran from my heart
And out upon the page,
They were so tiny
The pen could mash them.
And many struggled in the ink.
It was strange
To write in this red muck
Of things from my heart.

1. Once a man clambering to the housetops
2. Blustering God
3. You tell me this is God?
4. Behold, from the land of the farther suns
5. Why do you strive for greatness, fool?

Print

1116 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version