Bitter Lemons
by Lawrence Durrell
In an island of bitter lemonsWhere the moon’s cool fevers burnFrom the dark globes of the fruit,And the dry grass underfootTortures memory and revisesHabits half a lifetime deadBetter leave the rest unsaid,Beauty, darkness, vehemenceLet the old sea-nurses keepTheir memorials of sleepAnd the Greek sea’s curly headKeep its calms like tears unshedKeep its calms like tears unshed.
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