Hands clasped, under the dark veil.
'Today, why are you so pale?'
- Because I've made him drink his fill
Of sorrow's bitter tale.
How could I forget? He staggered,
His mouth twisted with pain...
I ran down not touching the rail,
I ran all the way to the gate.
'I was joking,' I cried, breathlessly.
'If you go away, I am dead.'
Smiling strangely, calmly,
'Don't stand in the wind,' he said.
I want you to know
one thing.
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.
But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.
I was not aware of the moment
when I first crossed the threshold of this life.
What was the power that made me open out into this vast mystery
like a bud in the forest at midnight!
When in the morning I looked upon the light
I felt in a moment that I was no stranger in this world,
that the inscrutable without name and form
had taken me in its arms in the form of my own mother.
Even so, in death the same unknown will appear as ever known to me.
And because I love this life,
I know I shall love death as well.
The child cries out
when from the right breast the mother takes it away,
in the very next moment to find in the left one its consolation.
If I should'nt be alive
When the Robins come,
Give the one in Red Cravat,
A Memorial crumb -
If I could'nt thank you,
Being fast asleep,
You will know I'm trying
With my Granite lip!
Driver drive faster and make a good run
Down the Springfield Line under the shining sun.
Fly like an aeroplane, don't pull up short
Till you brake for Grand Central Station, New York.
For there in the middle of the waiting-hall
Should be standing the one that I love best of all.
If he's not there to meet me when I get to town
I'll stand on the side-walk with tears rolling down.
For he is the one that I love to look on,
The acme of kindness and perfection.
He presses my hand and he says he loves me,
Which I find a admirable peculiarity.
The woods are bright green on both sides of the line,
The trees have their loves though they're different from mine.
But the poor fat old banker in the sun-parlour car
Has no one to love him except his cigar.
If I were the Head of the Church or the State,
I'd powder my nose and just tell them to wait.
For love's more important and powerful than
Ever a priest or a politician.
If you can't be a pine at the top of the hill,
be a shrub in the valley.
But be the best little shrub on the side of the hill.
Be a bush if you can't be a tree.
If you can't be a highway, just be a trail.
If you can't be a sun, be a star.
For it isn't by size that you win or fail.
Be the best of whatever you are.
Try to understand the picture
that you're drawn to be,
then start realizing it in your life.
Part of the morning stars
The moon and the mail
The ravenous X, the raving ache,
-the moon Sittle La
Pottle, teh, teh, teh,
The poets in owlish old rooms
who write bent over the words
know that words were invented
because nothing was nothing
In use of words, use words,
the X and the blank
And the Emperor's white page
And the last of the Bulls
Before spring operates
Are all lotsa nothin
which we got anyway
So we'll deal in the night
in the market of words.
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
If I die, survive me with such a pure force
you make the pallor and the coldness rage;
flash your indelible eyes from south to south,
from sun to sun, till your mouth sings like a guitar.
I don't want your laugh or your footsteps to waver;
I don't want my legacy of happiness to die;
don't call to my breast: I'm not there.
Live in my absence as in a house.
Absence is such a large house
that you'll walk through the walls,
hang pictures in sheer air.
Absence is such a transparent house
that even being dead I will see you there,
and if you suffer, Love, I'll die a second time.
I'm a tranquillizer,
I act at home,
I work in the office,
I face exams,
I show up for the hearing,
I glue together carefully broken cups -
you only have to take me,
make me melt under your tongue,
you only have to swallow me
with a sip of water.
I know how to treat unhappiness,
how to face bad news,
reduce justice,
risk the absence of God,
choosing a nice little mourning hat.
What are you waiting for -
trust in chemical pity.
You're still a young man (woman),
you should sort yourself out somehow.
Who said life should be lived with courage?
Give me your abyss -
I'll stuff it with sleep.
You'll be grateful for your standing fall.
Sell me your soul.
There won't be another buyer.
There isn't another devil anymore.