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Nationality – Dame Mary Gilmore

11 Sep

This poem by a much under-rated Australian poet is profoundly simple, a rare achievement. It is impossible not to sympathise with the speaker on the one hand, and not to be disturbed by the implications of what she says on the other.

Nationality

I have grown past hate and bitterness,
I see the world as one;
But though I can no longer hate,
My son is still my son.

All men at God’s round table sit,
and all men must be fed;
But this loaf in my hand,
This loaf is my son’s bread.

Paradox, thy name is poetry.

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4 responses to “Nationality – Dame Mary Gilmore

  1. Anonymous

    November 1, 2007 at 2:43 pm

    u suk

     
  2. ninglun

    November 1, 2007 at 2:56 pm

    I wonder why this post produced that comment?

     
  3. sam

    November 21, 2007 at 2:40 pm

    what is this poem about (natonality)

     
  4. ninglun

    November 22, 2007 at 8:21 am

    The way we really put our own interests first, no matter what we say we believe…?

     
 
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