A trawl through social media and my library account took me to the poetry of Paul Muldoon today. Before I nip round and take out a couple of his books, I came across this poem by George Russell, known as AE, that is worth sharing:
The gods have taken alien shapes upon them
Wild peasants driving swine
In a strange country. Through the swarthy faces
The starry faces shine.
Under grey tattered skies they strain and reel there:
Yet cannot all disguise
The majesty of fallen gods, the beauty,
The fire beneath their eyes.
They huddle at night within low clay-built cabins;
And, to themselves unknown,
They carry with them diadem and sceptre
And move from throne to throne.