Belvedere Gardens, Vienna
Though horse chestnuts are aureoled
With gold round rusting foliage,
Black, column-straight trunks make them shrines
To night as ravens and I stand
Beneath a chilling cobalt sky.
Bells peal, and garden sphinxes ask:
“Why can’t the lion and lamb lie down
In harmony again?” Despite
My terse: “Because they never did”,
The question stays. And I too now
We’ve quarrelled and you’ve gone to Prague.
Your hair imagined as these tree
Leaves falling, swept by death-thin men
Into brown heaps, blackbirds agree
And hop about on cold bare limbs
In ownership, as news sinks in
That you have cancer and your course
In chemo-therapy’s begun.
Madam: Archbishop Fisher (July-August 2024) does not resist the attacks on his church by the political, social or scientific atheists and those who insist on not being told what to do.
Aug 29 2024
6 mins
To claim Aborigines have the world's oldest continuous culture is to misunderstand the meaning of culture, which continuously changes over time and location. For a culture not to change over time would be a reproach and certainly not a cause for celebration, for it would indicate that there had been no capacity to adapt. Clearly this has not been the case
Aug 20 2024
23 mins
A friend and longtime supporter of Quadrant, Clive James sent us a poem in 2010, which we published in our December issue. Like the Taronga Park Aquarium he recalls in its 'mocked-up sandstone cave' it's not to be forgotten
Aug 16 2024
2 mins