A Silent Woman 

Through the lees did a plain man
  Leisurely travel by.
He was but a tiller of the land,
  Who grew wheat and rye.

From the town did that plain man
  Returned by the road,
From that town where in a mart
  He had sold his load.

He was but a plain man
  Who lived by the land.
He rode on a dappled mule
  Greyed by the wind.

In that country road by the lees
  A woman with unkempt hair,
A woman with tear stained cheeks
  Alone sat crying there.

In that lonely country road
  That led to the town,
Sat a woman with lovely eyes
  No man had known.

The plain man returning then
  To his plain home
Saw the woman with lovely eyes
  Sitting on a tomb.

The woman had tear stained cheeks;
  Wind dried her lips.
The woman sat musing on her hands
  bloodied at the tips.

'What troubles thee,' asked the man,
  But no reply had she.
'What troubles thee,' asked he--
  She moaned silently.

'Art thou ill,' asked the man
  To the woman mute.
'Art thou ill,' asked the man,
  But no words issued.

In that lonely country road
  Where the wind rests,
The plain man and the silent woman
  Made strange guests.

In that lonely country road
  A woman sat sobbing;
And the plain man beside her
  Made for a strange setting.

'I'll set you on my mule,' said he,
  The tiller of the land.
'I'll set you on my mule,' said he,
  Taking her by the hand.

And the woman riding gently
  Leaned sidelong on.
And the plain man led the beast
  Away from the sun.

Away he went, leading the beast
  When the mule turned astray
Just as the moon showed her white face
  'neath the dusky sky.

He was led by a strange fate
  Towards the dampen woods,
And through the whole affair was he
  Blinded by the moods.

And through the whole affair the woman
  Leaned sidelong on,
Her flaccid limbs swaying meekly
  Under a full moon.

The plain man then led this crew
  Towards a bonfire,
Whereupon he woke from the spell
  For the chilly air.

There he woke from the spell
  And saw lying there
Two brothers from the neighbouring town,
  A mischievous pair.

There two brothers lay dead,
  Each had throats opened.
Although the wind blew coldly
  The bonfire quickened.

Off to the corpses' side the man
  Found women's jewelry,
A wire freckled with dried blood,
  And signs of revelry.

There the plain man turned around
  And saw the silent woman.
She no longer leaned to her sides
  But sat oblique and wan.

Her eyes were empty but the man
  Felt a great chill.
For two men had throats opened
  And lay there still.

The silent woman gazed heavenward
  With wistful eyes,
And the farmer's hushed prayers
  Were lost in his cries.






 Art for Art's Sake






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