Collected Poems

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by Anthony Burgess


  In the cabarets and bars.

  Oh, love, love, love…

  ‘WE WILL BUILD A BRIDGE TO HEAVEN’

  We will build a bridge to heaven,

  Build in earnest, not in play;

  Night and morning, noon and even,

  We will watch and we will pray.

  ‘WE’LL BE COMING HOME’

  We’ll be coming home,

  Coming, coming home.

  Some day soon,

  January or June,

  Evening, morning or afternoon –

  – So just you stand and wait

  By the garden gate

  Till my ship comes bouncing o’er the foam.

  We’ll be together

  For ever and ever,

  Never more to roam –

  – He’ll be coming,

  We’ll be coming,

  I’ll be coming home.

  We’ll be together

  For ever and ever,

  Never more to roam –

  We’ll be coming home,

  Coming, coming home.

  Some day soon,

  January or June,

  Evening, morning or afternoon –

  ‘MY ADORABLE FRED’

  My adorable Fred:

  He’s so, so sweet,

  From the crown of his head

  To the soles of his feet.

  He’s my meat.

  ‘MY DEAD TREE. GIVE ME BACK MY DEAD DEAD TREE’

  My dead tree. Give me back my dead dead tree.

  Rain, rain, go away. Let the earth be still

  Dry. Kick the gods back into the cakey earth,

  Making a hole, for that purpose, with a drill.

  The northern winds send icy peace,

  The southern gales blow balmy.

  Pelagius is fond of police;

  Augustine loves an army.

  ‘THIS LOVELY QUEEN, IF I SHOULD WIN HER’

  This lovely queen, if I should win her,

  Shall have my heart for a medallion.

  She’ll never lack a hearty dinner,

  This lovely queen, if I should win her.

  My fire shall rouse the fire that’s in her,

  She’ll ride my sea, a golden galleon,

  This lovely queen. If I should win her,

  She’ll have my heart for a medallion.

  ‘HOW COME THAT SUCH A SCHOLAR’

  How come that such a scholar

  Can put up with such a squalor?

  Just gimme hafe a dollar

  And I’ll make it spick and span, man.

  ‘ICH NEM’ EIN’ ZIGARETT’

  Ich nem’ ein’ Zigarett’

  Un ich fuhl du liebst much nicht mehr

  Und ich weiss es ist aus

  Un da macht mein Herz so schwer.

  Yet

  With my cigarette

  Thought I give no more than I get

  There’s no sigh of regret

  At the end of my cigarette.

  ‘YOU WHOM THE FISHERFOLK OF MYRA BELIEVE’

  You whom the fisherfolk of Myra believe

  To have power over the sea

  Acknowledge a power as old as Eve –

  The sea’s goddess, Venus, me!

  O tue che a Mira ogni pescatore

  Venera pel potere che hai sul mare

  Conoscer devi la potenza arcana

  Di Vener, dea del mar, me, sovrunmana.

  ‘WAKING AND SLEEPING’

  Waking and sleeping

  It’s always the same,

  Sleeping and waking

  I call on your name.

  Sleeping I cry,

  Waking I sigh,

  Knowing there’s no reply.

  We’re versing and voicing

  Our heartfelt rejoicing,

  Your troubles belong to the past

  So nuzzle and nestle,

  For you’ve said it, Cecil,

  At last.

  ‘MONEY ISN’T EVERYTHING’

  Money isn’t everything –

  It’s only board and bed,

  The only thing distinguishing

  Being living, being dead

  (So I’ve heard it said).

  ‘I’LL CRASH THE MOON’

  I’ll crash the moon

  To fetch a spoon

  Of precious lunar dust.

  I’ll fly as high

  As heaven’s eye.

  I’ll even die

  If I must.

  Anything at all

  I’ll gladly do

  To prove a lasting

  Love for you.

  Each and every task

  Beneath the sun:

  You only have to ask –

  It’s done.

  UNE P’TITE SPÉCIALITÉ CALLED L’AMOUR

  Meet her at a table

  Out side some small café,

  Say she’s adorable

  In such a Gallic way.

  Let your lady fair know

  That she is all you see,

  Prime her with a Pernod

  Or three.

  Make the chestnuts blossom

  And keep away the rain,

  Under the gossamer

  Soon you’ll start to eat like an epicure –

  Une p’tite spécialité called l’amour.

  Take another table

  Inside a restaurant,

  Somewhere formidable

  Where you’ll be très contents.

  Comfort her with oysters

  In quite the classic style –

  Succulent and moist as

  Her smile.

  See her crack a lobster

  And strip it to the buff,

  Rough as when a mobster

  Gets tough.

  Keep the wine cascading and you’ll ensure

  Une p’tite spécialité called l’amour.

  When you had dined,

  You find some boîte

  Whereat they’re inclined

  To l’érotique.

  Keep her close entwined

  Till your minds

  Grow weak.

  When you have danced,

  Chance takes you where

  The air is entranced

  With Paris spring.

  There you’ll hear her whisper

  The thing

  You’ll want to hear till

  All the city sparrows

  Are chirping to the sun,

  Market stalls and barrows

  Say morning has begun.

  Light as gold as taffy

  Is sugaring the day

  While you drink your café

  Au lait.

  Bite into a croissant

  And smile upon your love;

  Hear the larks en passant

  Above.

  They make it ev’ry day in

  Their own Parisian way:

  Paris may be sinful, but one thing’s pure –

  It’s une p’tite spécialité called l’amour.

  CABBAGE FACE

  CABBAGE

  FACE: Cabbage Face.

  If you were in Paris, you

  Might be called mon petit choux,

  But you’re in a different place,

  So I call you Cabbage Face.

  NATHAN’S SONG

  David’s people we,

  Seeking David’s town.

  A simple shepherd he

  Who acquired a crown.

  David, kind of Israel,

  Wish well.

  ‘THY MOUTH, A FIG, THY TEETH’

  Thy mouth, a fig, thy teeth

  Troops in ivory array.

  Of the treasures ranged beneath

  I may yet nothing say.

  Must I wait till the nuptial day?

  ‘MY LOVE LAY ACROSS THE WATERS’

  My love lay across the waters,

  Twenty leagues away,

  Fairest of fifteen daughters

  So they used to say.

  I’ll go back to her some day.

 
‘FISH GREY, FISH BROWN’

  Fish grey, fish brown,

  Will you come up, or must we go down?

  Fish silver, fish white,

  Will you permit us to eat you tonight?

  Fish green, fish red,

  How on earth can the people be fed?

  Fish dull, fish bright,

  Will you permit us to catch you tonight?

  THE PRODIGAL SON

  There was a man who had two sons,

  And he loved them both in equal measure.

  He put aside, so the story runs,

  Gold for both from his ample treasure.

  Oh, the prodigal son.

  ‘Father, father, the time is come’,

  So said the younger son one day,

  ‘To give to me my promised sum.

  Thank you, father’. And he went away.

  Oh, the prodigal son.

  He wasted his gold on whores and wine,

  And very soon the gold was gone.

  A famine came to Palestine

  And it did not spare this spendthrift one.

  Oh, the prodigal son.

  So he became, against his will,

  A swineherd, far from Galilee.

  He would have eaten of the porkers’ swill,

  Had he not been something of a Pharisee.

  Oh, the prodigal son.

  ‘My father’s men have bellies full

  With bread and wine and roasts to carve.

  They are snug and warm in leather and wool,

  While I must shiver and I must starve.’

  Oh, the prodigal son.

  He has left the swine, he has left the trough,

  He has left the foul hut wherein he slept.

  His father saw him a good way off

  And ran to him, kissed him, laughed and wept.

  Oh, the prodigal son.

  ‘Father, I’m but a worthless thing,

  I am not fit to be your son.’

  But his father gave him a costly ring

  And the finest robe that was ever spun.

  Oh, the prodigal son.

  ‘Bring out the fatted calf’, he cried.

  ‘Let us eat and drink and stamp the ground,

  For he is alive that I deemed had died.

  Rejoice, for he that was lost is found.’

  Oh, the prodigal son.

  The elder was an angry one,

  He would have no part in feast or song.

  ‘All these years I have been a good son,

  Asking no favour, doing no wrong,

  Never a prodigal son.’

  THE GOOD SAMARITAN

  There was a man of Israel,

  A brother of our faith and blood.

  He bought and sold and his work went well.

  Like us, he was neither bad nor good.

  He travelled one day from Jerusalem

  To do some business in Jericho.

  He fell among thieves and was stripped by them

  And beaten with many a savage blow.

  He lay at the side of the road near dead.

  A priest of the temple came riding by.

  A dying man, to himself he said.

  What can I do but let him die?

  A man of the Levites rode on his way,

  Yea, one of Moses’ and Aaron’s race.

  His horse said nothing but he said nay,

  And they cantered on at a merry pace.

  Now who should come next but a foreign man,

  A son of a race that the Jews despise,

  Yes, as you guess, a Samaritan,

  But he halted and pity flooded his eyes.

  He cared for this wretch all blood and rage,

  He washed his wounds in wine and oil,

  He tore white linen from his saddlebags,

  He did not scorn the surgeon’s toil.

  He set him tenderly on his steed,

  Rode to a nearby inn, and then

  His only care was to tend and feed

  And bring that wretch to life again.

  ‘Landlord, landlord, I must go away.

  Care for this sick man, I pray.

  Whatever the cost I will gladly pay.

  I will be back in a week and a day.’

  Now who was the kindly neighbour here

  In the eyes of that robbed and wretched man –

  The Levite, to the Lord most dear,

  The priest he had been taught to revere,

  Or the despised Samaritan?

  PASSOVER HYMN

  He showed the power of that mighty hand

  And out of its bondage Israel came,

  From bondage to the promised land.

  Blessed be his holy name.

  Alleluia alleluia.

  Blessed be his holy name.

  ENDNOTES

  1. An Essay On Censorship. Previously unpublished. Poem dated 10 April 1989.

  2. The Creation of the World. Previously unpublished variant text. Same title as in ABBA ABBA, Based on a second draft that does not have the title, but is otherwise the same. This draft version uses the word ‘his’ instead of ‘us’, presumably erroneously. See also ABBA ABBA (London: Faber, 1977), p. 92.

  3. The Earthly Paradise of the Beasts. Previously unpublished variant. Titled ‘The Beastly Paradise’ in ABBA ABBA, p. 92. Some differences in line indentation. The ABBA ABBA version uses the phrase ‘roughish fun was rife’. The last three lines have no space before them in the ABBA ABBA version.

  4. Back to the Roots. Previously unpublished variant. Titled ‘Origins’ in ABBA ABBA, p. 93. Some variations in indentation.

  5. Man. Previously unpublished variant. Titled ‘Adam’ in ABBA ABBA, p. 93. Variations in indentation. The spaces between ‘om nip o tence’ are not present in the published version. ‘Say’ was originally typed, but corrected to ‘prove’ in line 4.

  6. His Own Image and Likeness. Previously unpublished variant. Titled ‘Image and Likeness’ in ABBA ABBA, p. 93. Variations in the indentation. ‘Old Nick’ appears in the published version, and ‘Satan’ is used in line 8. This is a hand correction on the typed MS, which was originally ‘The devil’. Line 14 has ‘fucking’ in the published volume, changed from ‘bloody’ in the MSS.

  7. All About Eve. Previously unpublished variant. Titled ‘About Eve’ in ABBA ABBA, p. 95. Some variations in indentation. Word substitutions in this MS version include: ‘divil’ (which became ‘divvle’); ‘handkerchief’ (which became ‘snotrag’); ‘She’ in the last stanza (which became ‘who’). The MS shows that Burgess put ‘Mother’ in as an afterthought.

  8. A Reply. Previously unpublished variant. Titled ‘Another Point of View’ in ABBA ABBA, p. 95. Some variations in indentation. The first line in the published version was ‘But some say: Scorn her not. Remember, she’.

  9. The First Mouthful. Previously unpublished variant. Titled ‘Greed’ in ABBA ABBA, p. 96. Some variations in indentation.

  10. Adam’s Sin. Previously unpublished variant. Titled ‘Original Sin’ in ABBA ABBA, p. 96. Variations present in the indentation, and also in use of italics (for ‘why’).

  11. The First Clothes. Previously unpublished variant. Titled ‘Knowledge’ in ABBA ABBA, p. 97. Some variations in indentation.

  12. The State of Innocence (1). Previously unpublished variant. Titled ‘What Might Have Been’ in ABBA ABBA, p. 97. Some variations in indentation.

  13. The State of Innocence (2). Previously unpublished variant. Titled ‘A Problem’ in ABBA ABBA, p. 98. Some variations in indentation. A cancelled version of line three begins: ‘And spuds –’ The first line of stanza two uses commas instead of the brackets used in the final version. Likewise, collective pronouns are used in lines 13 and 14, in place of what would become the personal ‘I’ in the published version.

  14. Holy Starvation. Previously unpublished variant. Has the same title as in ABBA ABBA. Some variations in indentation. ‘Yes’ and ‘O ye’ are heavily overwritten on the MS in ink (the previous words are illegible). An em
dash in the penultimate line is used in the typescript, whereas a semi-colon appears in the published version. See ABBA ABBA, p. 98.

  15. Cain and the Lord. Previously unpublished variant. Titled ‘Cain 1’ in ABBA ABBA. Some variations in indentation. The MS version uses ‘hell’ instead of the ‘fuck’ of the published version. See ABBA ABBA, p. 99.

  16. Cain’s Crime. Previously unpublished variant. Titled ‘Cain 2’ in ABBA ABBA. Some variations in indentation. See ABBA ABBA, p. 99.

  17. The Second Sin. Previously unpublished variant. Titled ‘Cain 3’ in ABBA ABBA. Some variations in indentation. See ABBA ABBA, p. 100.

  18. The Universal Deluge. Previously unpublished variant. Is called ‘The Ark 1’ in ABBA ABBA. Some variations in indentation. See ABBA ABBA, p. 100.

  19. Noah’s Ark. Previously unpublished variant. Titled ‘The Ark 2’ in ABBA ABBA, p. 101. Some variations in indentation. Honey for the Bears is the title of Burgess’s 1963 novel, written around nine years before this sequence. ‘Parmiggiano’ becomes ‘gorgonzola’ in the published version.

  20. The New Wine. Variant text. Titled ‘Noah on Land’ in ABBA ABBA, p. 101. Some variations in indentation.

  21. The Age of Man. Variant text. Titled ‘Age’ in ABBA ABBA, p. 102. Some variations in indentation.

  22. The Tower. Variant text. Same title in ABBA ABBA, p. 102. Some variations in indentation.

  23. Abraham’s Sacrifice (1). Unpublished variant. Titled ‘Abraham 1’ in ABBA ABBA, p. 104. Some variations in indentation. This is sonnet 25 in the published version. Burgess re-wrote the sestet twice. The first (deleted) version reads:

  And called to Isaac: ‘Pack the bags and

  This donkey, get the boy to bring a nice

  Sharp axe, kiss mum goodbye, no you won’t need your

  Best shirt. Fetch my hat, let’s take the road.

  The blessed Lord requires a sacrifice.

  The time has come to teach you the technique.

  This variant may have been abandoned due to its complex indentations. The second previously unpublished MS version is hand-corrected in ink, substituting ‘then kiss’ for ‘and kiss’, and ‘Bring coats and hats we’re’ for ‘At sunrise we are’. The final line was originally ‘The time has come to teach you the technique.’

 

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