Some day, when trees have shed their leaves
And against the morning’s white
The shivering birds beneath the eaves
Have sheltered for the night,
We’ll turn our faces southward, love,
Toward the summer isle
Where bamboos spire to shafted grove
And wide-mouthed orchids smile.

And we will seek the quiet hill
Where towers the cotton tree,
And leaps the laughing crystal rill,
And works the droning bee.
And we will build a cottage there
Beside an open glade,
With black-ribbed blue-bells blowing near,
And ferns that never fade.

— “After the Winter,” Claude McKay

Related Posts with Thumbnails


  • Katie: Ohhhh. Gorgeous.7 years ago

  • Lizziefirst: Love it.7 years ago

  • Katie: Love it. I need to look south. I’m so ready for spring!7 years ago

  • Oh, I just love this poem! It’s so clean and cozy and life-affirming, and I think this line is perfection:

    “We’ll turn our faces southward, love,”

    This poem also reminds me so much of this one:


    by: W.B. Yeats

    I went out to the hazel wood,
    Because a fire was in my head,
    And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
    And hooked a berry to a thread;

    And when white moths were on the wing,
    And moth-like stars were flickering out,
    I dropped the berry in a stream
    And caught a little silver trout.

    When I had laid it on the floor
    I went to blow the fire a-flame,
    But something rustled on the floor,
    And some one called me by my name:
    It had become a glimmering girl
    With apple blossom in her hair
    Who called me by my name and ran
    And faded through the brightening air.

    Though I am old with wandering
    Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
    I will find out where she has gone,
    And kiss her lips and take her hands;
    And walk among long dappled grass,
    And pluck till time and times are done
    The silver apples of the moon,
    The golden apples of the sun.7 years ago

  • Brie.: warmth would be so welcome now. alas, it is something to hope for!7 years ago

Add a comment