The Reader Over My Shoulder, by Robert Graves (1895-1985) You, reading over my shoulder, peering beneath My writing arm -- I suddenly feel your breath Hot on my hand or on my nape, So interrupt my theme, scratching these few Words on the margin for you, namely you, Too-human shape fixed in that shape: -- All the saying of things against myself And for myself I have well done myself. What now, old enemy, shall you do But quote and underline, thrusting yourself Against me, as ambassador of myself, In damned confusion of myself and you? For you in strutting, you in sycophancy, Have played too long this other self of me, Doubling the part of judge and patron With that of creaking grind-stone to my wit, Know me, have done: I am a proud spirit And you for ever clay. Have done. The Reader Over My Shoulder, by Robert Graves - Reading https://youtube/watch?v=LMRSpqb7Obk
Posted on: Tue, 30 Dec 2014 04:26:40 +0000
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