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August 16th, 2018 - we have 234 poets, 8,025 poems and 329,572 comments.
Sylvia Plath - Mary's Song

The Sunday lamb cracks in its fat.
The fat
Sacrifices its opacity. . . .

A window, holy gold.
The fire makes it precious,
The same fire

Melting the tallow heretics,
Ousting the Jews.
Their thick palls float

Over the cicatrix of Poland, burnt-out
Germany.
They do not die.

Grey birds obsess my heart,
Mouth-ash, ash of eye.
They settle.  On the high

Precipice
That emptied one man into space
The ovens glowed like heavens, incandescent.

It is a heart,
This holocaust I walk in,
O golden child the world will kill and eat.

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Added: Feb 21 2003 | Viewed: 1193 times | Comments and analysis of Mary's Song by Sylvia Plath Comments (37)

Mary's Song - Comments and Information

Poet: Sylvia Plath
Poem: Mary's Song
Volume: The Collected Poems
Poem of the Day: Jun 2 2012

Comment 37 of 37, added on August 12th, 2018 at 6:29 PM.
DrIjGMjsVQvjIehx

Q5HQmw Received the letter. I agree to exchange the articles.

suba zupa from Indonesia
Comment 36 of 37, added on August 12th, 2018 at 5:11 PM.
fijUyEHBmQveCB

mmMzG9 You are my aspiration , I possess few blogs and occasionally run out from to brand.

suba analuba from Saint Vincent and the Grenadin
Comment 35 of 37, added on May 10th, 2017 at 10:37 AM.
hIVYNRdXRLDG

WDK5TP Thanks a lot for the article.Thanks Again.

jeremy abrams from Canada

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