As part of the Go Dog Go Cafe ‘Classic Poems’ series, I present the celebrated poem of Spring ‘The Trees‘ by the most English of England’s poets, Philip Larkin:
The Trees, by Philip Larkin
The trees are coming into leaf
Like something almost being said;
The recent buds relax and spread,
Their greenness is a kind of grief.
Is it that they are born again
And we grow old? No, they die too,
Their yearly trick of looking new
Is written down in rings of grain.
Yet still the unresting castles thresh
In fullgrown thickness every May.
Last year is dead, they seem to say,
Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.
It is respectfully and fully acknowledged that ‘The Trees’ first published in ‘High Windows’ in 1974 is presented here by Eric Daniel Clarke (EDC Writing) as it appeared in ‘Philip Larkin – Collected Poems’ published by Faber &…
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