The Moonlight Sonata
My soul storm-beaten as an ancient pier
Stands forth into the sea; wave on slow wave
Of shining music, luminous and grave,
Lifting against me, pouring through me, here
Find wafts of unforgotten chords, which rise
And droop like clinging sea-weed. You, so white,
So still, so helpless on this fathomless night
Float like a corpse with living, tortured eyes.
Deep waves wash you against me; you impart
No comfort to my spirit, give no sign
Your inarticulate lips can taste the brine
Drowning the secret timbers of my heart.
Possession
I hold you fast, your hurrying breath,
Your wandering feet, your restless heart,
Are mine alone, for only death
You vowed today, can make us part.
Your eager lips, athirst to drain
Life's goblet of its golden wine
Shall drink tonight or thirst in vain—
I hold you fast for you are mine.
And when I search your soul until
I see too deeply and divine
That you can never love me—Still
I hold you fast for you are mine!
Evening: the Taj Mahal
(A Lover Speaks)
Beloved!…
India and you
Breathe through my soul tonight,
You in your gown, impossibly white—
I marvel greatly that it fail
To glow and pale
With iridescent light—
How can it hang in silent nun-like folds?
Think of the flaming mystery it holds,
You… You…
We stand in that wide place
Where love is frozen in marble, spire on spire,
A snow-white nightingale with a heart of fire
Soaring in space.
We gaze, together, into the shining pool
To catch the soul of beauty unaware
Finding only the peaceful body there
Of beauty drowned and still in waters cool.