I The dull delight and petty mystery Of not being seen. I know you, color of the trees and towns, Between us is the usual transparency Of shining looks. It moves along the stones As water plays. On one side of my heart virgins darken, On the other a soft hand smoothes the flanks of the hills. The arc of a little water stirs this fall, These mingling mirrors. Lights of precision, I do not blink my eyes, I do not stir, I speak And when I sleep My throat is a ring with a tulle streamer. II I come out to the arms of the shadows, I am deep in the balms of the shadows, Alone. Pity is too high and can stay there, Virtue yields itself the alms of her breast, And grace is taken in the net of her eyelids. She is fairer than the faces on the benches, She is more obdurate. She is below with the stones and the shadows. I have rejoined her there. Here it is that day fights its last battle. If I fall asleep, it's so I shall dream no more. Then what shall be the arms of my triumph? In my wide-open eyes the sun effects the change O garden of my eyes! And all of the fruits are here to summon flowers Flowers in the night, A window of foliage Suddenly open in her face. Where shall I set my lips, shoreless Nature? A woman is fairer than the world where I live And I close my eyes. I come out to the arms of the shadows, I am deep in the balms of the shadows, And the shadows wait for me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 32 by JAMES JOYCE THE CHANGED WOMAN by LOUISE BOGAN TO A MOTH SEEN IN WINTER by ROBERT FROST IF HE SHOULD COME by EDWIN MARKHAM THE PAST IS THE PRESENT (2) by MARIANNE MOORE HYBRIDS OF WAR: A MORALITY POEM: 1. VIETNAM by KAREN SWENSON |