by Tom Kuhn
Be a gentleman, stop all this slop and woe!
What is it? What is the matter with you?
And he looked at them, he was gagging for his fill:
I want to live! Eat! Breathe! Be idle!
And ride away in the wind like you.
6
That was a thing no friend understood:
Three times they addressed him as Gentleman.
Three times laughter came back from the fourth man:
Earth was holding his bare hand
As he lay there cankered in the black wood.
7
When the Hathoury Woods had eaten him and the dew
Had sodden him, next day, still full of disgust
And cold with hate they dug down through
The dark grass and got him below
Where the tree’s roots branched deepest.
8
And they rode out of the thickets saying nothing
And looked back once more at the tree in whose
Roots they had buried him to whom dying
Had seemed far too bitter a thing:
And the crown of the tree was shining
And they made the sign of the cross over their young eyes
And rode away fast into the prairies.
Song of the Fort Donald railroad gang
1
The men of Fort Donald—haway!
Climbed the river to where the forests last forever soullessly.
But one day rain came down and the forest grew around them to a lake.
They were standing in water knee-high.
And morning will never come, said they
And we shall drown before dawn, said they
And they listened to the Erie wind dumbly.
2
The men of Fort Donald—haway!
Stood by the water with picks and rails and looked up at the darker sky
For it was getting dark and evening grew out of the splashing lake.
Oh not a scrap of hope was there in the sky
And we are tired already, said they
And we shall fall asleep, said they
And never again will we wake to the sun’s reveille.
3
The men of Fort Donald—haway!
Said at once: if we sleep, it’s goodbye!
For sleep grew from water and night and they were fearful as cattle would be
And one said: sing “Johnny lies over the sea”.
Yes, that might keep us up, said they
Yes, we shall sing his song, said they
And they sang of Johnny who lies over the sea.
4
The men of Fort Donald—haway!
Groped like moles in the dark of Ohio, like the blind
But so loud they sang as if it might bring them who knows what felicity
No, never had they sung that way.
Oh where is Johnny when night falls, sang they
Oh where is Johnny when night falls, sang they
And wet Ohio grew below and above grew rain and wind.
5
The men of Fort Donald—haway!
Will stay awake now and sing till they’re drowned.
But by dawn the water will be higher than them and louder than them screamed the Erie wind
Oh where is Johnny when night falls, sang they
It is wet here in Ohio, said they
At dawn only the water woke and only the Erie wind.
6
The men of Fort Donald—haway!
The trains hurtle over them to Lake Erie
And the wind at that place sings a silly melody
And the pines scream after the trains: haway!
Morning never came that day, they cry
Yes, we drowned before dawn, they cry
Often at evening our wind still sings their Johnny lies over the sea.
Ballad of Cortez’s men
On the seventh day, a light wind blowing
The grasslands became brighter. Since the sun was good
They thought they’d take their ease. Rolled brandy
From the wagons, untied some oxen. These
They slaughtered towards evening. When it was cool
From the trees in the marsh nearby they cut
Gnarled branches, thick as their arms and good for burning.
Down their gullets then they gulped spiced meat
And around the ninth hour, singing, began
To drink. The night was cool and green. Hoarse then
Well sozzled, with a last glance at the big stars
They fell asleep towards midnight by the fire.
Their sleep was heavy but some knew next morning
That once they had heard the oxen bellowing.
Woke towards midday already in the forest.
Glassy-eyed, with heavy limbs, they raised themselves
Groaning to their knees and in amazement saw
Gnarled branches, thick as their arms, standing
More than man-high around them, very entangled
Leafing, with small flowers having a sweetish scent.
It was very close under their canopy
That seemed to be thickening. The hot sun
Was not to be seen, nor any sky.
The captain bellowed like a bull for axes.
They lay over where the oxen were bellowing.
Could not be seen. The men, foully cursing
Stumbled around in the square, hitting against
Branches that had crawled in between them.
Slack-armed, wildly they hurled themselves
Into the growths which trembled lightly as though
From outside a faint wind was passing through.
After hours of labour they pressed their foreheads
Shiny with sweat in gloom against the foreign branches.
The branches grew and slowly added to
The fearful entanglement. Later, that evening
Which was dark because of the leafing overhead
They sat in silence, frightened, like monkeys
In their cages, weak with hunger. That night
The branches grew more. But there must be a moon
It was quite bright, they could still see one another.
Only towards morning was the stuff so thick
They would die without seeing one another again.
Next day singing rose up from the forest.
Dully, and fading. Singing to themselves no doubt.
At night it was quieter, the oxen also silent.
Towards morning it was as though beasts were bellowing.
But quite far off. Later came hours
Of utter silence. Slowly the forest
In a light wind, in a good sunlight, quietly
Over the following weeks devoured the grasslands.
Ballad of the pirates
1
Mad with brandy and darknesses
Drenched in unimagined rains
Ripped by nights of icy whiteness
In the crow’s nest, blanched by visions
Scorched raw and sickened by the sun
(That they had loved the winter long)
In hunger, stench, delirium
All still among the living sang:
O radiance! O azure sky!
The sails! O winds blow mightily!
Let go the wind and skies, but by
Sweet Mary’s love, leave us the sea.
2
No fields of oats with mild winds
Nor even a tavern and music
Nor women, dancing and absinthe
Nor cards could hold them. They got sick
Of words before the fighting, sick
Of women before the midnight came:
Their only love was the rotting deck
Their ship that did not have a home.
O radiance! O azure sky!
The sails! O winds blow mightily!
Let go the wind and skies, but by
Sweet Mary’
s love, leave us the sea.
3
The rat-infested, pestilential
Leaky ship, the whole caboodle
In drink they damn that ship to hell
But warts and all they love her still.
They tie themselves when the weather’s rough
Fast in the rigging by the hair:
They’ll only make for heaven if
Ships are allowed in there.
O radiance! O azure sky!
The sails! O winds blow mightily!
Let go the wind and skies, but by
Sweet Mary’s love, leave us the sea.
4
They heap up silk and precious stones
And gold in their rotting hold
And they are proud of the looted wines
Their desperate throats have swilled.
Sheeny silks from foundered junks
Scent their thin bodies at the Ascension
But they will knife one another drunk
Quarrelling over a Chinese lantern.
O radiance! O azure sky!
The sails! O winds blow mightily!
Let go the wind and skies, but by
Sweet Mary’s love, leave us the sea.
5
They murder cold and without hate
Whatever comes in reach of harm
They throttle as coolly as you might
Sling a rope over the yard-arm.
At wakes they swig raw spirit, at night
Tottering very drunk they go
Overboard: those left salute
Them, laughing, with the little toe.
O radiance! O azure sky!
The sails! O winds blow mightily!
Let go the wind and skies, but by
Sweet Mary’s love, leave us the sea.
6
Facing the violet horizons
Under the white moon, still, in the ice
In black night when the year begins
And no man knows another’s face
They lurk like wolves in beams and ply
The murder trade with flashing eyes
Like children drumming in the privy
They sing—so that they will not freeze:
O radiance! O azure sky!
The sails! O winds blow mightily!
Let go the wind and skies, but by
Sweet Mary’s love, leave us the sea.
7
At feeding time they lug their bellies
To foreign ships, like home, and in
A state of bliss, oblivious
Unroll them over foreign women.
They live like animals, noble, beauteous
In the soft wind, in the drunk blue zone!
And often seven bulls will use
A foreign woman, looted, lone.
O radiance! O azure sky!
The sails! O winds blow mightily!
Let go the wind and skies, but by
Sweet Mary’s love, leave us the sea.
8
When the legs are beat with too much dance
And the sated guts are laced with liquor
Then moon and sun may shine at once:
Song and knife give no more pleasure.
The brightly starry nights rock them
With music into sweet repose
And under swollen sails they trim
Onwards towards unknown seas.
O radiance! O azure sky!
The sails! O winds blow mightily!
Let go the wind and skies, but by
Sweet Mary’s love, leave us the sea.
9
But then one April evening
One that has no stars for them
The sea itself, not a breeze stirring
Has suddenly had enough of them.
And their immense beloved sky
Softly mists the stars from sight
And their beloved winds ferry
Clouds into the mild light.
O radiance! O azure sky!
The sails! O winds blow mightily!
Let go the wind and skies, but by
Sweet Mary’s love, leave us the sea.
10
The gentle breeze of midday sails
Them—playfully, at first—towards night
Once more the azure of evening smiles
On them, down a black chute.
They feel the sea, for mercy’s sake
Abides with them in their last light
And then the wind’s hands reach and take
And kill them before midnight.
O radiance! O azure sky!
The sails! O winds blow mightily!
Let go the wind and skies, but by
Sweet Mary’s love, leave us the sea.
11
Again the final billows toss
The accursed ship at heaven
And in their last clear-sightedness
They see the great reef beckon.
And at the end, because the gale
In the topmasts shrieked so bad
It seemed they, faring fast to hell
Sang louder than they ever had:
O radiance! O azure sky!
The sails! O winds blow mightily!
Let go the wind and skies, but by
Sweet Mary’s love, leave us the sea.
Song of the three soldiers
1
George was there and Johnny was too
And Freddy they made him a sergeant.
And the army tells you straight who’s who
Left, right, left, right, up north they went.
2
For Freddy the whisky was too warm
And George thought the blankets scanty.
But Johnny took Georgie by the arm:
The army lives forever, says he.
3
George he fell and Freddy is dead
And Johnny is down among the lost men.
But blood is now and ever shall be red
And the army’s recruiting again.
The ballad of Hannah Cash
1
With her cotton-cloth skirt and her yellow wrap
And the black-lake colour in her eyes
No money, no talent, but well stocked up
From her black hair that she never covered up
To her even blacker toes.
That was Hannah Cash, my friend
The “gentlemen” bad-talked her
She came with the wind and she went with the wind
That runs through the savannah.
2
And she had no shoes and she had no shift
And she could not sing chorales.
She was like a cat washed in and adrift
A small grey cat, on a flotsam raft
Among cadavers in the city’s black canals.
They gave her the absinthe glasses to wash
But herself she never washed clean
Nonetheless, my friend, even Hannah Cash
Clean she must once have been.
3
And she came one night to the sailors’ bar
With the black-lake colour in her eyes
And met J. Kent with his mole hair
The knife man from the sailors’ bar
And he told her she goes where he goes.
And whenever Kent, the scabby crook
Scratched his head and blinked his eyes
Hannah Cash, my friend, she felt that look
Right through to her toes.
4
They “grew closer” between fish and game
And “went through life side by side”
They never had the makings of house and home
And themselves had neither fish nor game
And the children went without names.
But let snow-wind howl and the rain cascade
Till it swamps the whole savannah
Still Hannah Cash, my friend, will bide
With the man she loves forever.
5
&nbs
p; The Sheriff says, That man’s bad news
He cheats, the milkwoman says
So what? says Hannah. So what if he does?
He’s my man. I’ll do as I please.
And stayed with him. Because.
And if he limps and he’s round the bend
And even if he hits her
Hannah Cash asks herself this, my friend
Do I love him? Nothing more.
6
The cradle stood in the open air
Roof and walls were ma and pa.
They went together year after year
From the asphalt city to the forests and from there
They went back into the savannah.
Walk so long in the sun and the wind
As long as anyone can
So long walked Hannah Cash, my friend
Alongside her man.
7
No dress was as poor as the dress she wore
And for her there never came a Sunday
No treat for three in a cherry tart bar
And she never did pancakes on the griddle or
Heard the harmonicas play.
And what if each day was like all other days
And never a bit of sun:
My friend, I say Hannah Cash always
Her face had sunshine on.
8
Yes, he stole the fish and the salt stole she
“Life’s hard” and so it was for them.
And while she was cooking the fishes, see
The children sat upon his knee
And said their catechism.
Through fifty years in night and wind
They slept in one bed together.
So that was Hannah Cash, my friend
God make it up to her.
Remembering Marie A.
1
On that day in the blue month of September
Quietly under a young plum tree
I held her like a sweet dream in my arms
My pale love, and she was quiet with me.
And above us in the fair heavens of summer
There was a cloud, some while I saw it there
It was very white and high, so high, above
And when I looked again it was there no more.
