The sun is rising.In their nakedness the karoos will all be hot againBut you will shiver in spite of itIn the memory of trekkers who left you thereTo be feverish in the shadows of days of doubtAnd the nightmare of Great ChakaStill alive in your eternal Zulu dream. Last night, anguished tyrantYou dream of the…
Oh, love as long as you can love, Oh, love as long as love you may! The hour will come, the hour will come: By graves lamenting you will stay. And ever keep your heart aglow, And let it foster love with care, As long as still another heart Beats with it warmly anywhere. If…
The mirror hanging on the wall, where I sometimes see myself in passing… is a dead pond brought into the house. Corpse of a pond is the mirror: Still, rigid water containing in itself remnants of color, remembrances of the sun, of shadow—movable edges of the horizon burning, passing by in circles, returning, never burning…
BEFORE YOU, mother Idoto*,Naked I stand;Before your watery presence,A prodigalLeaning on an oilbean,Lost in your legend.Under your power wait Ion barefoot,watchman for the watchwordat Heavensgate;out of the depths my cry:give ear and hearken… DARK WATERS of the beginning.Rays, violet and short, piercing the gloom,Foreshadow the fire that is dreamed of.Rainbow on far side, arched like…
1E-gyptIn Af-ricaMesopo-tamiaMero-eTheNileSilicaglassand brittleSa-hara, Tim-Buctu, Gaothe hills ofAhafo, windsOf the Ni-ger, Kurmasiand Kiverdown theCoiled congoand downthat black riverthat tides us to hell HELLIn the waterBrownBoys of Bushongodrowned in theBlue and the bitter Salt of wave- gulliedFerdinand’s seaSoft windsto san Salvador, Christopher, Christ, and no NoahOr dove to promise us, grimthrough it was, the simple sal vation…
Once I see the flowery wreaths of May,the month of love for Mary and her Child,the month of love for thee, my pious friend,the month of love of poetry, more sweetThan love to both our blended loving hearts!Once more I see thee, glorious month, ascendTriumphant in the skies, whom first of allMy eyes did greet…
More terrible is love in Kyiv than Magnificent Venetian passions. Butterflies Fly light and maculate into bright tapers – Dead caterpillars’ brilliant wings aflame! And spring has lit the chestnuts’ candles! Cheap lipstick’s tender taste, The daring innocence of miniskirts, And these coiffures, that are not cut quite right – Yet image, memory, and signs…
Come away, my love, from streetsWhere mankind eyes divide,And show windows reflect our difference.In the shelter of my faithful room rest. There, safe from opinions, being behindMyself, I can see only youAnd in my dark eyes your greyWill dissolve The candlelight throwsTwo dark shadows on the wallWhich merge into one as I close beside you….
Girl with your basket, with your pretty basket, with your shovel, with your pretty shovel, gathering shoots on the hillside here. I want to ask your home. Tell me your name! This land of Yamato, seen by the gods on high— it is all my realm, in all of…
O man! whose weakness dares rebel Against the Almighty’s strength, draw nigh And listen, for my tongue shall tell His message from the clouded sky. Midst rain, and storm, and hail, he spoke,Around the piercing thunder broke; At his proud word the clouds disperse, And thus he shakes the universe: ‘Come forth, then, in thy pride and power — Come answer me,…