Explore "Heimweh" by D.H. Lawrence on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
FAR-OFF the lily-statues stand white-ranked in the garden at home. / Would God they were shattered quickly, the cattle / would tread them out in the loam. / I wish the elder trees in flower could suddenly heave, and burst / The walls of the house, and nettles puff out from / the hearth at which I was nursed.
It stands so still in the hush composed of trees and inviolate peace, / The home of my fathers, the place that is mine, my fate and my old increase. / And now that the skies are falling, the world is spouting in fountains of dirt, / I would give my soul for the homestead to fall with me, go with me, both in one hurt.