POSTHUMOUS (1941)
How Can I Tell
...
How can I tell if your voice is
beautiful.
I only know, that it penetrates
me
and makes me shake like a
leaf
and tears me to shreds and splits
me.
What do I know about your skin
and limbs.
It makes me tremble that they are
yours,
so for me there is no sleep or
rest,
till they are mine.
At The Bottom Of
Things
I read in the paper that someone
had died.
someone whom I knew by
name.
She lived, as I, wrote books, as
I, became old,
and now she is dead.
Think to be dead now and to have
left
everything behind
oneself,
anguish, horror and loneliness,
and the
unforgiving guilt.
But a great justice lies hidden
at the bottom of
things.
We all have mercy to await - a
gift that no one
shall rob.
The Calm Steps
Beyond
I listen, I hear life
escaping
steadily faster now.
The calm steps beyond
-
death, it is you.
Before you were far away
-
I held you all too
dear.
Now, when I no longer
yearn,
now you are there.
Dear death, there is in your
essence
something which comforts:
mildly,
what you ask for if one has grown
up
or lost all of life!
Dear death, there is in your
essence
something which purifies
clearly:
that which is not with good or
evil
you lay bare and
naked.
Follow me and let me hold your
hand,
it is deeply
comforting.
You make what is beautiful
bearing and large,
you make the ugly
small.
It is as if you wanted something
from me.
A present is certainly what you
want:
a curious little key -
the little word yes.
Yes, Yes, I wanted to!
Yes, Yes, I want to!
I lay down my piety before your
feet -
so that life will go
on.
Everything Contains
You
Everything contains you, more
than a deadly
toll.
You are light and darkness in a
double bowl.
How one shimmers naked and
cool.
Air of mother-of-pearl over water
of pale opal.
Seeing, seen,
dressed for the day
dawn slowly opens its oyster
shell.
But the other broods quiet and
dusky,
also an oyster, but down deep
where the sea is
still.
Unopened,
since the end of
creation
defending the secret room of a
mother's
slumber.
Everything is you, the whole of
my essence's
goal.
You are the day and night in a
double bowl.
Now Is The Immense Time
of Waiting
Now is the immense time of
waiting
before leaves burst
forth,
now trees tremble in their
splitting glory,
the birches of purple, the asps
of green
and the gold-red of wide streams
-
the time of invisible
powers,
when everything is naked bearing
wombs -
souls pant heavily,
and the twilight hounds and
tires
as immeasurable
love-affairs.
Now creation crouches for the
leap it has
yearned for -
before it is
disappointed,
when the forest is as green as
possible
and the world is as complete as
possible
and the trees and the people
mumble as if
asleep:
"We wanted more."
About me
Words from the heart
My beautiful boy
The kindest of souls
Words by my favourite writers
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