Cherries

While there are many wonderful blackberry poems,  I know only three poems about cherries, all from previous centuries–one by Thomas Campion, one by Robert Herrick, and this one, by D. H. Lawrence, that Larry mentioned as we were eating the exceptionally sweet cherries of this summer:

The Cherry Robbers

Under the long, dark boughs, like jewels red
In the hair of an Eastern girl
Shine strings of crimson cherries, as if had bled
Blood-drops beneath each curl.

Under the glistening cherries, with folded wings
Three dead birds lie:
Pale-breasted throstles and a blackbird, robberlings
Stained with red dye.

Under the haystack a girl stands laughing at me,
With cherries hung round her ears–
Offering me her scarlet fruit: I will see
If she has any tears.

D. H. Lawrence

On the other hand, there are many poems about cherry trees and cherry blossoms–many originally from the Japanese. Here’s one by Issa from the wonderful collection of translations by Robert Hass:

New Year’s morning—
everything is in blossom!
I feel about average.

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