Joy is a trick in the air; pleasure is merely
contemptible, the dangled
Carrot the ass follows to market or precipice;
But limitary pain -- the rock under the tower
and the hewn coping
That takes thunder at the head of the turret-
Terrible and real. Therefore a mindless dervish
With knives will seem to have conquered the world.
The world's God is treacherous and full of
unreason; a torturer, but also
The only foundation and the only fountain.
Who fights him eats his own flesh and perishes
of hunger; who hides in the grave
To escape him is dead; who enters the Indian
Recession to escape him is dead; who falls in
love with the God is washed clean
Of death desired and of death dreaded.
He has joy, but Joy is a trick in the air; and
pleasure, but pleasure is contemptible;
And peace; and is based on solider than pain.
He has broken boundaries a little and that will
estrange him; he is monstrous, but not
To the measure of the God.... But I having told
However I suppose that few in the world have
energy to hear effectively-
Have paid my birth-dues; am quits with the
Submitted by Holt
Robinson Jeffers's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Birth-Dues by Robinson Jeffers )
Did you read them?
- Time Chases Me, Neela Nath
- Elimination, Hans Raj Sharma
- We have come thru..., bill costley
- The elements of loss, nick feiner
- Lives short lived, nick feiner
- Waiting to bloom, nick feiner
- Woman Or Mermaid?, Marcondes Pereira
- Gliding through life, nick feiner
- Angels and Demons, nick feiner
- Love is, hasmukh amathalal