Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
Song of a Woman with TwinsMyrtle Eberstein
Ou! Ou! Ou!
When I was young and little,
And thought only of the mealies and the sun
And the wet whispering river water,
How could I tell what would befall me—
How could I know what should come to me!
Why did they make me bear
Two bodies at one birth?
Ah, they were not like demons—
They were like little helpless man-children.
Little and hungry, with curling hands and feet,
Like the son I hoped to bear!
And all the night I bore them—
Why did the witch-man’s drum, beating by my head,
Why did the witch-man’s charms, smelling strong with enchantment—
Why did they not keep the demons
From being born to me?
My father gave him cowries,
Cowries and a gun,
Taken from a white man
That he killed a year ago—
Slowly, slowly,
For good and lasting magic
That the gun should shoot straight.
None had such a gun!
And yet the demons came—
At my right breast a demon,
At my left breast a demon,
Sucking, sucking.
Oh, the little curling hands,
That they will drown tonight!
When I was little and young,
Tumbling laughing in the sunshine,
How should I know what would come to me?
How should I know what would befall me?
Ou! Ou! Ou!