The Yellow Flower

Lyrics
What shall I say, because talk I must? That I have found a cure for the sick? I have found no cure for the sick but this crooked flower which only to look upon all men are cured. This is that flower for which all men sing secretly their hymns of praise. This is that sacred flower! Can this be so? A flower so crooked and obscure? It is a mustard flower and not a mustard flower, a single spray topping the deformed stem of fleshy leaves in this freezing weather under glass. An ungainly flower and an unnatural one, in this climate; what can be the reason that it has picked me out to hold me, openmouthed, rooted before this window in the cold, my will drained from me so that I have only eyes for these yellow, twisted petals? That the sight, though strange to me, must be a common one, is clear: there are such flowers with such leaves native to some climate which they can call their own. But why the torture and the escape through the flower? It is as if Michelangelo had conceived the subject of his Slaves from this -- or might have done so. And did he not make the marble bloom? I am sad as he was sad in his heroic mood. But also I have eyes that are made to see and if they see ruin for myself and all that I hold dear, they see also through the eyes and through the lips and tongue the power to free myself and speak of it, as Michelangelo through his hands had the same, if greater, power. Which leaves, to account for, the tortured bodies of the slaves themselves and the tortured body of my flower which is not a mustard flower at all but some unrecognized and unearthly flower for me to naturalize and acclimate and choose it for my own.
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Credits
- Writers
- William Carlos Williams