Explore "The Poplar. (Richard Aldington)" by Richard Aldington on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Why do you always stand there shivering / Between the white stream and the road?
The people pass through the dust / On bicycles, in carts, in motor-cars; / The waggoners go by at dawn; / The lovers walk on the grass path at night.
Stir from your roots, walk, poplar!
You are more beautiful than they are.
I know that the white wind loves you, / Is always kissing you and turning up / The white lining of your green petticoat.
The sky darts through you like blue rain, / And the grey rain drips on your flanks / And loves you.
And I have seen the moon / Slip his silver penny into your pocket / As you straightened your hair; / And the white mist curling and hesitating / Like a bashful lover about your knees.
I know you, poplar; / I have watched you since I was ten.
But if you had a little real love, / A little strength, / You would leave your nonchalant idle lovers / And go walking down the white road / Behind the waggoners.
There are beautiful beeches down beyond the hill.
Will you always stand there shivering?