To “A Defense of Poetry” by Percy Bysshe Shelley


Both above and beyond consciousness, I roam,
of human beings, in their veiled thoughts and dreams
like an unseen nightingale’s joyful song,
sweet in sadness with no restraints, being streamed,
transmuting the pains of tranced listeners,
from purple venom to liquid gold of love!

I am the center and circumference
of knowledge, thoughts and imagination,
the gadfly redeemer of ignorance,
since before even history was born,
often tossed by the reasoning of pride,
still in each epoch’s errors I survived!

Both the edge and an atom of the universe,
I thrive where no bat-winged blind reasons dare traverse!


Image: Fair copy of “A Defense of Poetry”. Oxford, Bodleian Libraries


6 thoughts on “The Tale of Poetry

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