D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
Sun, dark sun
Sun of black void heat
Sun of the torrid mid-day's horrific darkness.
Behold my hair twisting and going black.
Behold my eyes turn tawny yellow
Negroid;
See the milk of northern spume
Coagulating and going black in my veins
Aromatic as frankincense.
Columns dark and soft
Sunblack men
Soft shafts, sunbreathing mouths
Eyes of yellow, golden sand
As frictional, as perilous, explosive as brimstone.
Rock, waves of dark heat;
Waves of dark heat, rock, sway upwards
Waver perpendicular.
What is the horizontal rolling of water
Compared to the flood of black heat that rolls upward
past my eyes?
Tropic was written by D. H. Lawrence.