The spirit killeth, but the letter giveth life.
The week is dealt out like a hand
That children pick up card by card.
One keeps getting the same hand.
One keeps getting the same card.
But twice a day -- except on Saturday --
The wheel stops, there is a crack in Time:
With a hiss of soles, a rattle of tin,
My own gray Daemon pauses on the stair,
My own bald Fortune lifts me by the hair.
Woe's me! woe's me! In Folly's mailbox
Still laughs the postcard, Hope:
Your uncle in Australia
Has died and you are Pope,
For many a soul has entertained
A Mailman unawares --
And as you cry, Impossible,
A step is on the stairs.
One keeps getting the same dream
Delayed, marked "Payment Due, "
The bill that one has paid
Delayed, marked "Payment Due" --
Twice a day, in rotting mailbox,
The white grubs are new:
And Faith, once more, is mine
Faithfully, but Charity
Writes hopefully about a new
Asylum -- but Hope is as good as new.
Woe's me! woe's me! In Folly's mailbox
Still laughs the postcard, Hope:
Your uncle in Australia
Has died and you are Pope,
For many a soul has entertained
A mailman unawares --
And as you cry, Impossible,
A step is on the stairs.
Ahora tan sólo,
en este pobre rostro en que te caes,
he visto el rostro de la niña que fuiste
y te he sentido varias veces mi madre.
Me he sentido el hijo de tus juegos,
del mundo que creabas y esperabas
como un tibio regalo de cumpleaños.
Y .....
There is a jaggle of masonry here, on a small hill
Above the gray-mouthed Pacific, cottages and a thick-walled tower, all made of rough sea rock
And Portland cement. I imagine, fifty years from now,
A mist-gray figure moping about this place in mad moonlight, examining .....
Tu ai plecat, dar in intreaga casa,
Zguduitoare, amintirea-ti lasa un violent parfum de-amor,
un musc omorator, fum de calicii tropicale,
Cu sange negru in petale de floare acre se abate
Intr-o suprema voluptate
Cand soarele cu sarutari de foc, o frange de .....
Frumoasa floare Venus si-a ales - asculta,
Dara mândria ei e-atât de scurta
Când soarele rasare - ce-nfloreste
Se scutura, când seara poposeste.
Fecioaro, rupe roza ca pe o noua floare
Si nu uita ca viata ta e trecatoare.
În parul tau de aur, o copca de argint
aveai, si-n noaptea deasa ca smoala, tu, frumoasa,
cu pletele de aur sunând, si de matasa
erai faclie blonda, lucind în labirint.
O, as fi vrut sa fie vazduhul nu te mint
în mâna mea o calda si mângâioasa .....
I Dreamed that I ws dead and crossed the heavens, --
Heavens after heavens with burning feet and swift, --
And cried: "O God, where art Thou?" I left one
On earth, whose burden I would pray Thee lift."
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