Southern Light
D. H. Lawrence
1885 to 1930
Come up, thou red thing.
Come up, and be called a moon.
The mosquitoes are biting to-night
Like memories.
Memories, northern memories,
Bitter-stinging white world that bore us
Subsiding into this night.
Call it moonrise
This red anathema?
Rise, thou red thing,
Unfold slowly upwards, blood-dark;
Burst the night’s membrane of tranquil stars
Finally.
Maculate
The red Macula.
Taormina.
D. H. Lawrence's Southern Light
I am busy working to bring D. H. Lawrence's "Southern Light" to life through some unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you later.
In the meantime, I invite you to explore the poem's themes, structure, and meaning. You can also check out the gallery for other musical arrangements or learn more about D. H. Lawrence's life and contributions to literature.
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