Snakes and more Snakes

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AussiePam
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Snakes and more Snakes

Post by AussiePam »

Snake

by David Herbert Lawrence

A snake came to my water-trough

On a hot, hot day, and I in pyjamas for the heat,

To drink there.

In the deep, strange-scented shade of the great dark carob-tree

I came down the steps with my pitcher

And must wait, must stand and wait, for there he was at the trough before

me.

He reached down from a fissure in the earth-wall in the gloom

And trailed his yellow-brown slackness soft-bellied down, over the edge of

the stone trough

And rested his throat upon the stone bottom,

And where the water had dripped from the tap, in a small clearness,

He sipped with his straight mouth,

Softly drank through his straight gums, into his slack long body,

Silently.

Someone was before me at my water-trough,

And I, like a second comer, waiting.

He lifted his head from his drinking, as cattle do,

And looked at me vaguely, as drinking cattle do,

And flickered his two-forked tongue from his lips, and mused a moment,

And stooped and drank a little more,

Being earth-brown, earth-golden from the burning bowels of the earth

On the day of Sicilian July, with Etna smoking.

The voice of my education said to me

He must be killed,

For in Sicily the black, black snakes are innocent, the gold are venomous.

And voices in me said, If you were a man

You would take a stick and break him now, and finish him off.

But must I confess how I liked him,

How glad I was he had come like a guest in quiet, to drink at my water-trough

And depart peaceful, pacified, and thankless,

Into the burning bowels of this earth?

Was it cowardice, that I dared not kill him? Was it perversity, that I longed to talk to him? Was it humility, to feel so honoured?

I felt so honoured.

And yet those voices:

If you were not afraid, you would kill him!

And truly I was afraid, I was most afraid, But even so, honoured still more

That he should seek my hospitality

From out the dark door of the secret earth.

He drank enough

And lifted his head, dreamily, as one who has drunken,

And flickered his tongue like a forked night on the air, so black,

Seeming to lick his lips,

And looked around like a god, unseeing, into the air,

And slowly turned his head,

And slowly, very slowly, as if thrice adream,

Proceeded to draw his slow length curving round

And climb again the broken bank of my wall-face.

And as he put his head into that dreadful hole,

And as he slowly drew up, snake-easing his shoulders, and entered farther,

A sort of horror, a sort of protest against his withdrawing into that horrid black hole,

Deliberately going into the blackness, and slowly drawing himself after,

Overcame me now his back was turned.

I looked round, I put down my pitcher,

I picked up a clumsy log

And threw it at the water-trough with a clatter.

I think it did not hit him,

But suddenly that part of him that was left behind convulsed in undignified haste.

Writhed like lightning, and was gone

Into the black hole, the earth-lipped fissure in the wall-front,

At which, in the intense still noon, I stared with fascination.

And immediately I regretted it.

I thought how paltry, how vulgar, what a mean act!

I despised myself and the voices of my accursed human education.

And I thought of the albatross

And I wished he would come back, my snake.

For he seemed to me again like a king,

Like a king in exile, uncrowned in the underworld,

Now due to be crowned again.

And so, I missed my chance with one of the lords

Of life.

And I have something to expiate:

A pettiness.

Taormina, 1923
"Life is too short to ski with ugly men"

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AussiePam
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Snakes and more Snakes

Post by AussiePam »

The Brown Snake

by Douglas Stewart



The Brown Snake

I walked to the green gum-tree

Because the day was hot;

A snake could be anywhere

But that time I forgot.

The Duckmaloi lazed through the valley

In amber pools like tea

From some old fossicker's billy,

And I walked under the tree.

Blue summer smoked on Bindo,

It lapped me warm in its waves,

And when that snake hissed up

Under the shower of leaves

Huge, high as my waist,

Rearing with lightning's tongue,

So brown with heat like the fallen

Dry sticks it hid among,

I thought the earth itself

Under the green gum-tree,

All in the sweet of summer

Reached out to strike at me.
"Life is too short to ski with ugly men"

ZAP
Posts: 3081
Joined: Wed Jul 05, 2006 12:25 pm

Snakes and more Snakes

Post by ZAP »

The Snake by David Herbert Lawrence. I never read it but thank you for posting it. Beautifully poignant!
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AussiePam
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Snakes and more Snakes

Post by AussiePam »

I read that at school, Zapata, and have never forgotten it. It's a bit long and rambling, but wonderfully atmospheric.
"Life is too short to ski with ugly men"

ZAP
Posts: 3081
Joined: Wed Jul 05, 2006 12:25 pm

Snakes and more Snakes

Post by ZAP »

I hadn't seen it before. It's beautifully written. So illustrative.
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