Antaeus

Album cover art for "Antaeus" by Seamus Heaney

Seamus Heaney - Non-Music, Literature

Antaeus

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When I lie on the ground I rise flushed as a rose in the morning. In flights I arrange a fall on the ring To rub myself with sand That is operative As an elixir. I cannot be weaned Off the earth's long contour, her river-veins. Down here in my cave Girdered with root and rock I am cradled in the dark that wombed me And nurtutred in every artery Like a small hillock. Let each new hero come Seeking the golden apples and Atlas. He must wrestle with me before pass Into that realm of fame Among sky-born and royal: He may well throw me and renew my bith But let him not plan, lifting me off the earth, My elevation, my fall.

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