Читать книгу Nirvana Days - Rice Cale Young - Страница 8

I know not where it was I saw them sit,

For in my dreams I had outwandered far

That endless wanderer men call the sea —

Whose winds like incantations wrap the world

And help the moon in her high mysteries.

I know not how it was that I was led

Unto their tryst; or what dim infinite

Of perfect and imperishable night

Hung round, a radiance ineffable;

For I was too intoxicate and tranced

With beauty that I knew was very love.

So when divinity from her had stolen

Into his spirit, as, from fields of myrrh

Or forests of red sandal by the sea,

Steal slaking airs, and he began to speak,

I could but gather these few fleeting words:

"Your glance sends fragrance sweeter than the lily,

Your hands are visible bodiments of song

You are the voice that April light has lost,

Her silence that was music of glad birds.

The wind's heart have you, and its mystery,

When poet Spring comes piping o'er the hills

To make of Tartarus forgotten fear.

Yea all the generations of the world,

Whose whence and whither but the gods shall know.

Are vassal to your vows forevermore."

And she, I knew, made answer, for her words

Fell warm as womanhood with wordless things,

But I had drifted on within my dream,

To that pale space which is oblivion.