I've none to tell me to but Thee
So when Thou failest, nobody -
It was a little tie -
It just held Two, nor those it held
Since Somewhere thy sweet Face has spilled
Beyond my Boundary -
If things were opposite - and Me
And Me it were - that ebbed from Thee
On some unanswering Shore -
Would'st Thou seek so - just say
That I the Answer may pursue
Unto the lips it eddied through -
So - overtaking Thee.
The Bird must sing to earn the Crumb
What merit have the Tune
No Breakfast if it guaranty
The Rose content may bloom
To gain renown of Lady's Drawer
But if the Lady come
But once a Century, the Rose
Superfluous become.
Each Second is the last
Perhaps, recalls the Man
Just measuring unconsciousness
The Sea and Spar between -
To fail within a Chance -
How terribler a thing
Than perish from the Chance's list
Before the Perishing!
The Sun is gay or stark
According to our Deed -
If Merry, He is merrier -
If eager for the Dead
Or an expended Day
He helped to make too bright
His mighty pleasure suits Us not
It magnifies our Freight.
Ti ho disperso e non ti ho
disperso amore
nel mio corpo ti ho
perduto
e nel tuo
che su molte strade appare
splendido frutteto vuoto.
E ti ho ritrovato
giovinezza degli alberi in inverno
ti ho scongiurato: stai
nel mio sangue, fai città
in me
e sii preciso
nella sollevazione del viso.
Each Scar I'll keep for Him
Instead I'll say of Gem
In His long Absence worn
A Costlier One
But every Tear I bore
Were He to count them o'er
His own would fall so more
I'll missum them.
It was a Grave - yet bore no Stone -
Enclosed 'twas not - of Rail -
A Consciousness - it's Acre - And
It held a Human Soul -
Entombed by whom - for what offence -
If Home or foreign - born -
Had I the Curiosity -
'Twere not appeased of Man -
Till Resurrection, I must guess -
Denied the small desire
A Rose upon it's Ridge - to sow -
Or sacrificial Flower.
I stepped from Plank to Plank
A slow and cautious way
The Stars about my Head I felt
About my Feet the Sea -
I knew not but the next
Would be my final inch -
This gave me that precarious Gait
Some call Experience.
They wont frown always - some sweet Day
When I forget to teaze -
They'll recollect how cold I looked
And how I just said "Please".
Then They will hasten to the Door
To call the little Girl
Who cannot thank Them for the Ice
That filled the lisping full.
Ribbons of the Year -
Multitude Brocade -
Worn to Nature's Party once
Then, as flung aside
As a faded Bead
Or a Wrinkled Pearl -
Who shall charge the Vanity
Of the Maker's Girl?