by Brendan Kennelly (1936 - 2021)
Someone else cut off my head
Language: English
Someone else cut off my head In a golden field. Now I am re-created By her fingers. This Moulding is more delicate Than a first kiss, More deliberate than her own Rising up And lying down. Even at my weakest, I am Finer than anything In this legendary garden Yet I am nothing till She runs her fingers through me And shapes me with her skill. The form that I shall bear Grows round and white. It seems I comfort her Even as she slits my face And stabs my chest. Her feeling for perfection is Absolute. So I am glad to go through fire And come out Shaped like her dream. In my way I am all that can happen to men. I came to life at her fingerends. I will go back into her again.
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Text Authorship:
- by Brendan Kennelly (1936 - 2021), "Bread" [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Nicola LeFanu (b. 1947), "I am Bread", 1987 [ soprano and piano ] [sung text checked 1 time]
Researcher for this page: Joost van der Linden [Guest Editor]
This text was added to the website: 2026-03-07
Line count: 29
Word count: 137