Poem – Snake – Padraic Colum

But, Snake, you must not come where we abide, 

For you would tempt us; we should hear you say: 
‘Oh, somewhere was a world was cold and spare, 

And voiceless; somewhere was a Being was not 
Engrossed with substance, with no fervencies 

Of love and hatred, and he made me, Snake! 
The wise Elohim, they who made the rest 

Of Creatures, made them ail-too manifold 
Mortised and rampired, jointed, vascular; 

And I was put an alien in their world, 
All head, all spine, all limb, all loin, 

Swift as a bird and single as a fish.’ 
Above you fruits unglanced at bend and glow, 

And, bare and voiceless, you do tempt us, Snake!

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