Wonderer, worshipper, lover of leaving.
It doesn’t matter.
Ours is not a caravan of despair.
Come, even if you have broken your vow
a thousand times
Come, yet again, come, come.
Wonderer, worshipper, lover of leaving.
It doesn’t matter.
Ours is not a caravan of despair.
Come, even if you have broken your vow
a thousand times
Come, yet again, come, come.
My glass shall not persuade me I am oldSo long as youth and thou are of one date;But when in thee Time’s furrows I behold,Then look I death my days should expiate.For all that beauty that doth cover theeIs but the seemly raiment of my heart,Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me.How…
Bring wine, for I am suffering crop sickness from the vintage;God has seized me, and I am thus held fast.By love’s soul, bring me a cup of wine that is the envy of thesun, for I care aught but love.Bring that which if I were to call it “soul” would be a shame,for the reason…
Love has no cause;it is the astrolabe of God’s secrets.Lover and Loving are inseparableand timeless.Although I may try to describe Lovewhen I experience it I am speechless.Although I may try to write about LoveI am rendered helpless;my pen breaks and the paper slips awayat the ineffable placewhere Lover, Loving and Loved are one.Every moment is…
Sea waves are green and wet,But up from where they die,Rise others vaster yet,And those are brown and dry. They are the sea made landTo come at the fisher town,And bury in solid sandThe men she could not drown. She may know cove and cape,But she does not know mankindIf by any change of shape,She…
Is this a kind of progress? This slip-beadmorning through which the rains keepmissing only the scarcely illuminated treadof clover at the heels of swart pines. Sleepcounters me both ways. I fail to advancein my own precession by the darkcalendar needles. I will not advancebut by the strange calamities that workas on shallops on calmed water,…
Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes,That they behold, and see not what they see?They know what beauty is, see where it lies,Yet what the best is take the worst to be.If eyes corrupt by over-partial looksBe anchor’d in the bay where all men ride,Why of eyes’ falsehood hast thou forged hooks,Whereto…