الوصف
Berlin poems, Florida poems, poems of the working class, the desperate, the crazy, the lovestruck, etc. etc.
DUENDE
Now is not the time to talk about money,
Chavis, nor the Crimean crisis, nor your father's
cancer, nor your son's mother's specially-
augmented piracies.
Now is the time to say so long Care, so long
tormenting Hope, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
and tomorrow; scatter liberally
lilies and purple flowers,
play soft Italian baroque, uncork the vintage rosé.
Every moment has in it the possibility
of rebirth; every moment a dying orchid.
The world is nothing
more than dew-glaze on a grasshopper's wings.
But one day, one night, one hour,
(so you know), the willow flakes
will blow
as though they're hearing music, love's strange
arrow-drawn pricksong will travel
over the waters, and the falcon will find
the falconer's glove.
DUENDE
Now is not the time to talk about money,
Chavis, nor the Crimean crisis, nor your father's
cancer, nor your son's mother's specially-
augmented piracies.
Now is the time to say so long Care, so long
tormenting Hope, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
and tomorrow; scatter liberally
lilies and purple flowers,
play soft Italian baroque, uncork the vintage rosé.
Every moment has in it the possibility
of rebirth; every moment a dying orchid.
The world is nothing
more than dew-glaze on a grasshopper's wings.
But one day, one night, one hour,
(so you know), the willow flakes
will blow
as though they're hearing music, love's strange
arrow-drawn pricksong will travel
over the waters, and the falcon will find
the falconer's glove.