Haniel Long poems
Haniel Long(9 March 1888 - 17 October 1956 / Rangoon, Burma)
Dead Men Tell No Tales
- by Haniel Long 47
They say that dead men tell no tales!Except of barges with red sails
And sailors mad for nightingales;
Except of jongleurs stretched at ease
Beside old highways through the trees;
Except of dying moons that break
The hearts of lads who lie awake;
Except of fortresses in shade,
And heroes crumbled and betrayed.
But dead men tell no tales, they say!
Except old tales that burn away
The stifling tapestries of day:
Old tales of life, of love and hate,
Of time and space, and will, and fate.
The Poet
- by Haniel Long 47
I take what never can be taken,Touch what cannot be;
I wake what never could awaken,
But for me.
I go where only winds are going,
Kiss what fades away;
I know a thing too strange for knowing,
I, the clay.