The Man with the Blue Guitar XXXI

How long and late the pheasant sleeps . ,

The employer and employee contend.

Combat, compose their droll affair.

The bubbling sun will bubble up.

Spring sparkle and the cock-bird shriek.

The employer and employee will hear

And continue their affair. The shriek

Will rack the thickets. There is no place.

Here, for the lark fixed in the mind.

In the museum of the sky. The cock

Will claw sleep. Morning is not sun.

It is this posture of the nerves,

As if a blunted player clutched

The nuances of the blue guitar.

It must be this rhapsody or none,

The rhapsody of things as they are.