PN Review Print and Online Poetry Magazine
Most Read... Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
Mark FordLetters And So It Goes
Letters from Young Mr Grace
(aka John Ashbery)

(PN Review 239)
Henry Kingon Toby Martinez de las Rivas
(PN Review 244)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
M. Wynn ThomasThe Other Side of the Hedge
(PN Review 239)
Next Issue Jason Allen-Paisant, Reclaiming Time: On Blackness and Landscape Tara Bergin, Five Poems Miles Burrows, Icelandic Journal Jonathan Hirchfeld, Against Oblivion Colm Toibin, From Vinegar Hill
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
PNR 250 Poetry Archive Banner
Monthly Carcanet Books
PN Review Blog

This poem is taken from PN Review 1, Volume 4 Number 1, October - December 1977.

Four Poems C.H. Sisson


            Questi non vide mai l'ultima sera

No praise for anything but love
The body rhymes with helpless times
No praise for anything but love.

How often, Sybil, have I wept
To touch the body as I would
How often, Sybil, have I wept

My mind is now the only space
In which your body is at ease
My mind is now the only space

My word is now the only hand
That touches you, that touches you
My word is now the only hand

Your lips are now the only lips
To speak the words that I would speak
And I am not the man to hear

No speech in summer. Now the light
Falls upon apple-flower and blue-bell
You are not here. No more am I.

The water rushing past my ears

Searching, please wait... animated waiting image