Poem
David Harsent
THE DEATH OF CAIN
THE DEATH OF CAIN
THE DEATH OF CAIN
Because he had a mouth on him like sulphur;because he gave me no respect;
because I was ever brother and no other;
because he smiled even as he slept
(or so she said); because my heart
carries a weight of hatred that will never
lift nor leave me even when I’m dead.
Although in all the world I stand apart
and live within the shadow of my name,
God’s curse on my head and on my head
the curses of my mother and my father,
although I lie here at your feet
speaking through blood and bile, I don’t regret it;
each night I dream of even blacker fame,
then bad luck wakes me and I rise to greet it.
Lamech, I’m close enough to smell your sin.
I’ll see you in hell where all the unforgiven,
the unforgiving, are sworn to come together
bare-headed under a murderous sun
or naked in never-ending winter weather.
© 2008, David Harsent
From: To be published in a future edition by Faber & Faber
Publisher: First published on PIW,
From: To be published in a future edition by Faber & Faber
Publisher: First published on PIW,
David Harsent
(United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, 1942)
David Harsent won the 2005 Forward Prize for Legion, which was also shortlisted for the Whitbread Prize and the TS Eliot Award; he has also been the recipient of the Geoffrey Faber Memorial Award, an Eric Gregory Award, two Arts Council bursaries and a Society of Authors Fellowship.
David Harsent’s work is both varied, and like that of all important writers, instantly recognisable. He is also co...
David Harsent’s work is both varied, and like that of all important writers, instantly recognisable. He is also co...
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Poems of David Harsent
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THE DEATH OF CAIN
Because he had a mouth on him like sulphur;because he gave me no respect;
because I was ever brother and no other;
because he smiled even as he slept
(or so she said); because my heart
carries a weight of hatred that will never
lift nor leave me even when I’m dead.
Although in all the world I stand apart
and live within the shadow of my name,
God’s curse on my head and on my head
the curses of my mother and my father,
although I lie here at your feet
speaking through blood and bile, I don’t regret it;
each night I dream of even blacker fame,
then bad luck wakes me and I rise to greet it.
Lamech, I’m close enough to smell your sin.
I’ll see you in hell where all the unforgiven,
the unforgiving, are sworn to come together
bare-headed under a murderous sun
or naked in never-ending winter weather.
From: To be published in a future edition by Faber & Faber
THE DEATH OF CAIN
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