Even now
If my girl with lotus eyes came
to me again
Weary with the dear weight of
young love,
Again I would give her to
these starved twins of arms
And from her mouth drink
down the heavy wine,
As a reeling pirate bee in
fluttered ease
Steals up the honey from the
nenuphar.
As the soon to be executed lover recollects the love affair that has condemned him, this poem celebrates his lack of regret. Love has not become bitter, rather it quenches and feeds the ‘starved twins of arms’ in a language palpably erotic- a language that luxuriates in sensory richness and infinite pleasure. This is Swinburne without the murky self love.
Who would not wish to be a ‘pirate bee’ and steal ‘honey from the nenuphar’? As I type this blog I do not even know what a ‘nenuphar’ is or where I should find one, but the poet makes such a quest eminently desirable!
Carol Ann Duffy cited this poem as one of her favourite love poems. A truly marvellous choice! I also feel a tantalising thread of inspiration and affection here for the piracy of poetry and of passionate love?