See that satan pollarding a tree,
That geometric man straightening a road:
Surely such passions are perverse and odd
That violate windows and set the north wind free.
No doubt tomorrow the world will be too straight.
Five hundred miles an hour will churn our dreams
Like surprised whales, when we lie a dead weight
In an ignorant sleep, and things will be what they seem.
Tomorrow we will hear on the gramophone
The music of the Spheres, registered H.M.V.
By a divorced contralto: we shall perhaps
Meet Adam under glass in a museum
Fleshless and most unlovely, complete with pedigree.
Or else, tomorrow, workers, kings and crooks
Will all have aeroplanes and be fast friends,
In a world no longer divided by dividends,
Where love will be almost as simple as it looks.
Francis Scarfe's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Progression by Francis Scarfe )
- Hanae, Marites C. Cayetano
- Adagio, Elizabeth Shield
- Psalm CXXXVII, Henry Ainsworth
- Thief, Pijush Biswas
- I am playing, gajanan mishra
- Everyday Is a TEST, Enoch Owusu Gyamfi
- One Of These Pure Days, Naveed Akram
- Deepavali, Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
- Psalm CVII, Henry Ainsworth
- Even in strife, hasmukh amathalal
Poem of the Day
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Nothing Gold Can Stay, Robert Frost
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
- Heather Burns
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)