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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  Marya Zaturensky

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

An Old Tale

Marya Zaturensky

From “Spinners”

WHAT shall we say of her,

Who went the path we knew of? She is dead—

What shall we say of her?

Men who are very old

Still speak of her. They say

That she was far too beautiful; they say

Her beauty wrought her ruin. But they

Are very old.

The old wives break their threads, they shake their heads.

They shake their heads when men will speak of her;

They say she was too beautiful.

I must not think of her, I must

Not speak of her! My mother says

One should not think of her.

She went the path we knew of; she is dead.

They say few knew her truly while she lived,

Though men will speak of her.

It really does not matter she is dead.

One need not think of her, although one night

Folks heard her weeping yet beside a pool

One moonlit springtime I could swear she sang!

But she is dead—one must not think of her.