Poem by Stephen Crane

* * *

The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-top

Blood -- blood and torn grass --
Had marked the rise of his agony --
This lone hunter.
The grey-green woods impassive
Had watched the threshing of his limbs.

A canoe with flashing paddle,
A girl with soft searching eyes,
A call: ”John!”
.    .    .    .    .
Come, arise, hunter!
Can you not hear?

The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-top.

1. Blustering God
2. I walked in a desert
3. Many workmen
4. The trees in the garden rained flowers
5. Love walked alone

Print

1757 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version