SpringAuthor(s): William Carlos WilliamsSource: Poetry, Vol. 13, No. 6 (Mar., 1919), p. 303Published by: Poetry FoundationStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20572028 .

Accessed: 13/05/2014 16:36

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William Carlos Williams

EPITAPH

An old willow with hollow branches Slowly swayed his few high bright tendrils And sang:

"Love is a young green willow Shimmering at the bare wood's edge."

SPRING

o my grey hairs! You are truly white as plum blossoms.

STROLLER

I have seen the hills blue, I have seen them purple;

And it is as hard to know The words of a woman As to straighten the crumpled branch Of an old willow.

MEMORY OF APRIL

You say love is this, love is that:

Poplar tassels, willow tendrils The wind and the rain comb, Tinkle and drip, tinkle and drip Branches drifting apart. Hagh! Love has not even visited this country.

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