O little sour apple of reason
You’ve laid out the truth clear and sane,
Now I see the dark and the brightness,
I’d rather be blinded again.
For a fool loves without any caution,
For a fool plays any childs game,
Ignorance has its own freedom,
O I wish to be foolish again.
O little sour apple of knowledge,
You lie in my palm as a pain.
I have bitten and tasted your wisdom,
I’d rather be simple again.
© Anne Le Marquand Hartigan 1982
From Long Tongue, published by Beaver Row Press, 1982