Advertising Console

    Philip Larkin - The Trees

    Repost
    poetictouch

    by poetictouch

    385
    681 views
    Philip Larkin reads his poem The Trees

    The Trees
    by Philip Larkin (1922-1985)

    The trees are coming into leaf
    Like something almost being said;
    The recent buds relax and spread,
    Their greenness is a kind of grief.

    Is it that they are born again
    And we grow old? No, they die too,
    Their yearly trick of looking new
    Is written down in rings of grain.

    Yet still the unresting castles thresh
    In fullgrown thickness every May.
    Last year is dead, they seem to say,
    Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.