William Carlos Williams
They call me and I go.
It is a frozen road
past midnight, a dust
of snow caught
in the rigid wheeltracks.
The door opens.
I smile, enter and
shake off the cold.
Here is a great woman
on her side in the bed.
She is sick,
to give birth to
a tenth child. Joy! Joy!
Night is a room
darkened for lovers,
through the jalousies the sun
has sent one golden needle!
I pick the hair from her eyes
and watch her misery
William Carlos Williams's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Complaint by William Carlos Williams )
Did you read them?
Poem of the Day
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- A Drinking Song, William Butler Yeats
- No Man Is An Island, John Donne
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- A Dream Within A Dream, Edgar Allan Poe
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- If, Rudyard Kipling
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
- Heather Burns
Percy Bysshe Shelley
(8 August 1884 – 29 January 1933)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)