Muscle and Bone of Song
- Hone Tuwhare
And of trees and the rive
no more say
that these alone are sources
for the deft song and the sad:
nor from wave-curl and the sun
cross moon wind and hail
calm and storm come.
Joyously I sing
to the young girl's hip-knock
and taunt: swing-cheerful breasts
shape my hands
to eternal begging-bowls.
O'Sullivan, V. (Ed.). (1979). An anthology of twentieth century New Zealand poetry. Wellington: Oxford University Press.
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