a covey of dawns
Leaves of day and moss of dew, Reeds of wind and scented smiles, Wings lighting up the world, Boats laden with sky and sea, Hunters of sound and sources of colour, Scents the echoes of a covey of dawns Recumbent on the straw of stars, As the day depends on innocence The world relies on your pure sight All my blood courses in its glance. Eluard.
For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay. In keen and quivering ratio To the ecstasy. For each beloved hour Sharp pittances of years, Bitter contested farthings And coffers heaped with tears. Emily.
Was hilft es, viel von Stimmung reden? Dem Zaudernden erscheint sie nie. Gebt ihr euch einmal für Poeten, So kommandiert die Poesie. Euch ist bekannt, was wir bedürfen, Wir wollen stark Getränke schlürfen; Nun braut mir unverzüglich dran! Was heute nicht geschieht, ist morgen nicht getan, Und keinen Tag soll man verpassen, Das Mögliche soll der Entschluß Beherzt sogleich beim Schopfe fassen, Er will es dann nicht fahren lassen Und wirket weiter, weil er muß. -- Faust, Goethe
The art of losing isn't hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster. --Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident art of losing's not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster. --E. Bishop
Love Song: I And Thou Nothing is plumb, level or square: the studs are bowed, the joists are shaky by nature, no piece fits any other piece without a gap or pinch, and bent nails dance all over the surfacing like maggots. By Christ I am no carpenter. I built the roof for myself, the walls for myself, the floors for myself, and got hung up in it myself. I danced with a purple thumb at this house-warming, drunk with my prime whiskey: rage. Oh, I spat rage's nails into the frame-up of my work: it held. It settled plumb, level, solid, square and true for that great moment. Then it screamed and went on through, skewing as wrong the other way. God damned it. This is hell, but I planned it, I sawed it, I nailed it, and I will live in it until it kills me. I can nail my left palm to the left-hand crosspiece but I can't do everything myself. I need a hand to nail the right, a help, a love, a you, a wife. --Alan Dugan