Poetry

Put a blade of grass between your lips! It too is the Son of God, it too is crucified by Spring, and rises again in winter's fury: how fiery just one breath is! I was happy here, you know. We walked all one summer in the hidden paths of elder and wild strawberries; love cooled…

For years my heart asked me for Jamshid's cup. That which it held it begged from strangers. It sought the pearl which lies outside the world's shell from the lost ones who wait by the edge of the sea. Last night I carried my dilemma to the old Magus that with his vision he might…

My white hairs are terribly unfeeling: Day after day I pluck them, but they grow again. They started as a single strand of silk, Then gradually became a thousand stalks of snow. I don't avoid the sniggers of beautiful women, I'm only ashamed of the children's fright. At New Year's, I passed the half-hundred mark…

trans. Bulgarian Jascha Kessler & Alexander Shurbanov You were dying, fully conscious, having summoned the incredible strength you needed to go calmly, not crying, not moaning, not shuddering — to keep fear away from me. Your hand went softly cold in my hand, and led me gradually beyond to death, so as to introduce me….

If I follow in her tracks she stirs up trouble, and if I rest from the search she rises up in anger. And if on the road for a moment, out of loyalty, I fall on her tracks like dust, like the wind she flees. And if I seek half a kiss, a hundred taunts,…

Where are you tearing to, my poor heart, as if you were still looking for your incarnation? 1973/1977

trans. Hebrew Ruth Whitman —You're behaving like a child, you are. —I know. Thank you.      I am a child; and that other child who blew up our            Zelda-tank,      how old do you think he was? That wild beast.      It's lucky that with only one hand I could still empty a            full round at…

trans. French Norman Shapiro 1. The Little Pup Little pup sat eyeing bone, One he used to call his own. Burly hound came swaggering up, Snatching bone from little pup. Sky watched hound dine on said victual: Didn't care one whit or tittle. Pup's still little, as before; Hound's still hungry, wants some more. 2….

I'm made up of cells: How far I am from their inhuman perfection 11/8/1976