Capitolo 41
The old times you/he/she is handed with you?--If you could see me
Sitting here from the window looking at Venus,
Back part goes down the branches of poplar of my neighbor,--
Only where you used to sure sit,--I'm you would come.
They says this year, the spring will be soon.
XI. CONVERSATION: LOW TONES
Of thing we will speak? Them Po? Hokusai?
You tighten Your dark and long eyes to fascinate me;
You smile a small. . . .Out, the night passes.
I walk alone in a forest of ghostly trees. . .
Your palm of pale rest of hands down on Your knees.
'These lines--converging, they suggests such distance!
The soul is drawn away, over horizons.
Done decoy out to that that? A challenge doesn't think.
Sometimes, me the look these endless perspectives
In intimate discourse (with as You) and psychiatrist. . .
'One feel him so small!--One feels such--the void!--'
You mimic horror, does fallen Your lifted hand,
And it smiles at me; with thoughtful tenderness. . .
Alone on the waters darkened me I fall and sorghum;
Whence lens above of me interruption, so that weak to whine.
'And then these colors. . . but what would it challenge describes them?
This pink-coral and weak carnation. . this green--the pistachio?--
So inconsistent! As the ghostly and weak things
Two persons in love find in the rooms of still-twilight of love. . .
Old peacock-fans and thirst fragrant and rings. . .
'Rings, allow us to say, deduced by the unlucky fingers
Of some great lady, many centuries anonymous,--
Or is it how too much sepulchral?--beveled with dust;
It is necklaces that crumble if you touch them;
And gold brocades that, it breathed on, fall to rust.
'Anybody--I am wrong. . . don't be these self I looked for for--!
Because they came to mind? You understand me--
You know these strange vagarieses of the brain!--'
--I walk alone in a forest of ghostly trees;
Your palm of pale rest of hands down on Your knees;
These the vagaries estranges of Your they are all too much simple.
'But because it makes him perplexed with tedious problems
Of art or. . . such things? . . . while we soothe here, while living,