The night sits wherever you are. Your night
is of lilac. Every now and then a gesture escapes
from the beam of your dimples, breaks the wineglass
and lights up the starlight. And your night is your shadow—
a fairy-tale piece of land to make our dreams
equal.
...
Still there is on thy saucers remains of honey
Kick out the flies so that you can protect the honey
Still there is on their vines clusters of grapes
O, guarders of vines, drive foxes out,
...
I didn't apologize to the well when I passed the well,
I borrowed from the ancient pine tree a cloud
...
So, we are who we are, as the Mississippi flows,
and what remains from yesterday is still ours-
but the color of the sky has changed,
the sea to the East has changed.
...
It is night and she is lonely
and I am lonely like her,
...
Don't apologize for what you've done - I'm saying this
in secret. I say to my personal other:
Here all of your memories are visible:
Midday ennui in a cat's somnolence,
...
No one guided me to myself. I am the guide
Between desert and sea, I am my own guide to myself.
...
He dreams of white lilies,
an olive branch,
her breasts in evening blossom.
He dreams of a bird, he tells me,
...
Earth is pressing against us, trapping us in the final passage.
To pass through, we pull off our limbs.
...