Jorge Luis Borges
Jorge Luis Borges Poems
|2.||Browning Decides To Be A Poet||12/31/2002|
|5.||The Other Tiger||1/3/2003|
|6.||We Are The Time. We Are The Famous||1/1/2004|
|7.||Adam Cast Forth||5/10/2001|
|9.||Remorse For Any Death||12/31/2002|
|11.||To A Cat||12/31/2002|
|12.||History Of The Night||12/31/2002|
|15.||The Art Of Poetry||1/3/2003|
It opens, the gate to the garden
with the docility of a page
that frequent devotion questions
and inside, my gaze
has no need to fix on objects
that already exist, exact, in memory.
I know the customs and souls
and that dialect of allusions
that every human gathering goes weaving.
I've no need to speak
nor claim false privilege;
they know me well who surround me here,
know well my afflictions and weakness.
This is to reach the highest thing,
that Heaven perhaps will grant us:
not admiration or victory
but simply to be accepted
as part of an ...
Of all the streets that blur in to the sunset,
There must be one (which, I am not sure)
That I by now have walked for the last time
Without guessing it, the pawn of that Someone
Who fixes in advance omnipotent laws,
Sets up a secret and unwavering scale
for all the shadows, dreams, and forms
Woven into the texture of this life.