Do not come shedding into my smitten whorl,
Come far away along a-dancing with me
Let's darken a sky darker than child's eyes
In a stormy, immutable pattern,
Along the ways of night I long to call you,
In tree-filled lanes we'll gather to ourselves
Hot shells for warmth, hot cinquefoil star.
I have been missing for several days now,
Because the moon, the night's guide
Has cast its shadow over my aureole.
O, to die of the sense that everything is equal
To polish each rim of the opalescent nail,
Tearing the banks of the Rubicon,
Where I would gild my tongue,
Where I would bathe mine eye.
Information, how you have defamed
Those woodland paths where feet make echo
Of the dim eves of eternity, if history is
An attempt to manifest God.
l965-68
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem