Chanson Un Peu Naïve in  General   

What body can be ploughed,
Sown, and broken yearly?
But she would not die, she vowed,
But she has, nearly.
Sing, heart sing;
Call and carol clearly.

And, since she could not die,
Care would be a feather,
A film over the eye
Of two that lie together.
Fly, song, fly,
Break your little tether.

So from strength concealed
She makes her pretty boast:
Plain is a furrow healed
And she may love you most.
Cry, song, cry,
And hear your crying lost.

By Louise Bogan

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Other poems by Louise Bogan:

• A Tale
• Betrothed
• Chanson Un Peu Naïve
• Epitaph For A Romantic Woman
• Knowledge
• Last Hill In A Vista
• Man Alone
• Medusa
• Men Loved Wholly Beyond Wisdom
• Portrait
• Roman Fountain
• Solitary Observation Brought Back From A Sojourn I
• Song For The Last Act
• Sonnet
• Tears In Sleep
• The Alchemist
• The Crossed Apple
• The Dream
• The Frightened Man
• Women
• Words For Departure