“THREADBALLS”

(From PEER GYNT by H. IBSEN)

The Threadballs (on the ground)

We are thoughts;

You should have thought us;

Little feet, to life

You should have brought us!

We should have risen

With glorious sound;

But here like threadballs

We are earth-bound.

Withered Leaves

We are a watchword;

You should have used us!

Life, by your sloth,

Has been refused us.

By worms we're eaten

All up and down;

No fruit will have us

For spreading crown.

A Sighing in the Air

We are songs

You should have sung us!

In the depths of your heart

Despair has wrung us!

We lay and waited;

You called us not.

May your throat and voice

With poison rot!

Dewdrops

We are tears

Which were never shed.

The cutting ice

Which all hearts dread

We could have melted;

But now its dart

Is frozen into

A stubborn heart.

The wound is closed;

Our power is lost.

Broken Straws

We are deeds

You have left undone;

Strangled by doubt,

Spoiled ere begun.

At the Judgement Day

We shall be there

To tell our tale;

How will you fare?

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