Резултати претраге

Song of Death

Old Woman Census-taker,
Death the Trickster,
when you’re going along,
don’t you meet my baby.
 
Sniffing at newborns,
smelling for the milk,
find salt, find cornmeal,
don’t find my milk.
 
Anti-Mother of the world,
People-Collector —
on the beaches and byways,
don’t meet that child.
 
The name he was baptized,
that flower he grows with,
forget it, Rememberer.
Lose it, Death.
 
Let wind and salt and sand
drive you crazy, mix you up
so you can’t tell
East from West,
 
or mother from child,
like fish in the sea.
And on the day, at the hour,
find only me.
 

The Song You Loved

Life of my life, what you loved I sing.
If you’re near, if you’re listening,
think of me now in the evening:
shadow in shadows, hear me sing.
 
Life of my life, I can’t be still.
What is a story we never tell?
How can you find me unless I call?
 
Life of my life, I haven’t changed,
not turned aside and not estranged.
Come to me as the shadows grow long,
come, life of my life, if you know the song
you used to know, if you know my name.
I and the song are still the same.
 
Beyond time or place I keep the faith.
Follow a path or follow no path,
never fearing the night, the wind,
call to me, come to me, now at the end,
walk with me, life of my life, my friend.
 

Sleepless.

As I’m a queen and
I was a beggar, now
I live in pure tremor that
you leave me,
and I ask you, pale, every hour:
“Are still with me?, oh, don’t go away!”
 
I would like to do the marches smiling
and trusting now that you have come