Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
Dreams are the subtle Dower
That make us rich an Hour -
Then fling us poor
Out of the Purple Door
Into the Precinct raw
Possessed before.
Commenta
Dreams are the subtle Dower
That make us rich an Hour -
Then fling us poor
Out of the Purple Door
Into the Precinct raw
Possessed before.
Death warrants are supposed to be
An enginery of Equity
A merciful mistake
A pencil in an Idol's Hand
A Devotee has oft consigned
To Crucifix or Block.
A Saucer holds a Cup
In sordid human Life
But in a Squirrel's estimate
A Saucer holds a Loaf -
A Table of a Tree
Demands the little King
And every Breeze that run along
His Dining Room do swing -
His Cutlery - he keeps
Within his Russet Lips -
To see it flashing when he dines
Do Birmingham eclipse -
Convicted - could we be
Of our Minutiae
The smallest Citizen that flies
Is heartier than we.
Un Piattino regge una Tazza
Nella sordida Vita umana
Ma nella prospettiva di uno Scoiattolo
Un Piattino regge una Pagnotta -
La Tavola di un Albero
Esige il piccolo Re
E ogni Brezza che soffia accanto
La sua Sala da Pranzo fa oscillare -
I Coltelli - tiene
Fra le Labbra Rossicce -
Vederli lampeggiare mentre pranza
Eclissa Birmingham -
Giudicati - fossimo
Per le nostre Minuzie
Il minuscolo Cittadino che vola
Sarebbe più genuino di noi.
The worthlessness of Earthly things
The Ditty is that Nature Sings -
And then - enforces their delight
Till Synods are inordinate.
Gathered into the Earth,
And out of story -
Gathered to that strange Fame -
That lonesome Glory
That hath no omen here - but Awe.
Trusty as the stars
Who quit their shining working
Prompt as when I lit them
In Genesis 'new house,
Durable as dawn
Whose antiquated blossom
Makes a world's suspense
Perish and rejoice.
Love's stricken "why"
Is all that love can speak -
Built of but just a syllable,
The hugest hearts that break.
"Tomorrow" - whose location
The Wise deceives
Though it's hallucination
Is last that leaves -
Tomorrow, thou Retriever
Of every tare -
Of Alibi art thou
Or ownest where?
Were it to be the last
How infinite would be
What we did not suspect was marked
Our final interview.
How know it from a Summer's Day?
It's Fervors are as firm -
And nothing in the Countenance
But scintillates the same -
Yet Birds examine it and flee -
And Vans without a name
Inspect the Admonition
And sunder as they came.