Do you remember our old ecstasy?
Why would you bring it back again to me?
Do you still dream as you dreamed long ago?
Does your heart beat to my heart’s beating?—No
They walked through weeds withered and grasses dead
And only the night heard the words they said
Nothing, I breathed to her, is less sure than the divine word
She drank in each little saying
Words that built a building strange
Her eyes, from an angel, at times would range
But how grave was our heart
As she listened to him under a tree
Into the labyrinth of down
Of this marvel of an ear
What shall I say?
Worms tickle the moon’s appetite
So sweet!
At last I know what it is to hear and see
How I shall love you now
I speak of seeing you
I know that you are living
The welcome—is always elsewhere ….
Do you remember our old ecstasy? Why would you bring it back again to me? Do you still dream as you dreamed long ago? Does your heart beat to my heart’s beating?—No They walked through weeds withered and grasses dead And only the night heard the words they said
Nothing, I breathed to her, is less sure than the divine word She drank in each little saying Words that built a building strange Her eyes, from an angel, at times would range But how grave was our heart As she listened to him under a tree Into the labyrinth of down Of this marvel of an ear
What shall I say? Worms tickle the moon’s appetite So sweet! At last I know what it is to hear and see How I shall love you now I speak of seeing you I know that you are living The welcome—is always elsewhere ….
[paraphrased poetry]