Monday, July 24, 2006

The Three-Faced, by Robert Graves

Who calls her two-faced? Faces, she has three: The first inscrutable, for the outer world The second, shrouded in self-contemplation; The third, her face of love Once for an endless moment turned on me. *

According to this book I'm reading, Robert Graves was "raging with grief and jealousy of imagined rivals.." when he wrote that poem.

It was about one of his muses, named Margot.


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