Do you think that I do not know?

[Cpt.Nemo]

'Do you think that I do not know?' By Henry Lawson

They say that I never have written of love,
As a writer of song should do;
They say that I never could touch the strings
With a touch that is firm and true;
They say I know nothing of women and men
In the fields where Love's roses grow,
I must write, they say with a halting pen
Do you think that I do not know?

My love-burst came, like an English spring,
In the days when our hair was brown,
and the hem of her skirt was a sacred thing
and her hair was an angel's crown.
The shock when another man touched her arm,
where the dancers sat in a row;
The hope and despair, and the false alarm
Do you think that I do not know?

By the amble lights on the western farms,
You remember the question put,
while you held her warm in your quivering arms
And you trembled from head to foot.
The electric shock from her fingers tips,
and the murmuring answer low,
The soft, shy yielding of warm red lips
Do you think that I do not know?

She was buried at Brighton, where Gordon sleeps,
When I was a world away;
And the sad old garden it's secret keeps,
For nobody knows knows to-day
She left a message for me to read
Where the wild wide oceans flow;
Do you know how the heart of a man can bleed
Do you think that I do not know?

I stood by the grave where that dead girl lies,
Where the sunlit scenes were fair,
'neath white clouds high in the autumn skies,
I answered the message there.
But the haunting words of the dead to me
Shall go wherever I go.
She lives in the Marriage that Might Have Been
Do you think that I do not know?

Any Thoughts???

 

[Nebulous's iconNebulous]

Kind of confusing, but thanks for sharing.

 

[Cpt.Nemo]

What would be confusing for you??
Just Australian Literature!

 

[Nebulous's iconNebulous]

What would be confusing for you??

Just confused on the scenario... He liked this girl, she got with another guy and now she's dead?

 

[Cpt.Nemo]

No, lol

Ok

I will explain

They say that I never have written of love,
As a writer of song should do; (People think he doesn't write love poems)
They say that I never could touch the strings
With a touch that is firm and true; (People think that he doesn't try)
They say I know nothing of women and men
In the fields where Love's roses grow, (People think that he doesn't know what men and women do when in love)
I must write, they say with a halting pen. (People think he keeps on stopping before writing)
Do you think that I do not know?

When the love-burst came, like an English spring,
In the days when our hair was brown, (His love came when they were young)
and the hem of her skirt was a sacred thing
and her hair was an angel's crown. (His love was sacret to him)
The shock when another man touched her arm,
where the dancers sat in a row; (another man loves, His love)
The hope and despair, and the false alarm
Do you think that I do not know?

By the amble lights on the western farms,
You remember the question put, (He remembers to marry her)
while you held her warm in your quivering arms
And you trembled from head to foot. (She is die-ing, He is shocked)
The electric shock from her fingers tips,
and the murmuring answer low,
The soft, shy yielding of warm red lips (She answers the question through her lips)
Do you think that I do not know?

She was buried at Brighton, where Gordon sleeps, (She was buried where a friend died)
When I was a world away; (He was somewhere else)
And the sad old garden it's secret keeps,
For nobody knows knows to-day (No-one knows what the secret of the garden is)
She left a message for me to read
Where the wild wide oceans flow; (The Pacific)
Do you know how the heart of a man can bleed (How much pain can a man can hold)
Do you think that I do not know?

I stood by the grave where that dead girl lies, (He stood where his love is dead)
Where the sunlit scenes were fair,
'neath white clouds high in the autumn skies,
I answered the message there. (He answered her question)
But the haunting words of the dead to me
Shall go wherever I go. (The girl's words will haunt him)
She lives in the Marriage that Might Have Been
Do you think that I do not know?

There, *sigh* It is abit confusing deciphering Henry lawson's peoms