For that I have words
You shall not see my work:
Buried my bone in the wide flower-garden
Under the rose-petals and rotting leaves.
Words to words, must to must,
Flashes and glitter.
Worms and heart heave in the throat,
Fingers fall and die on the white sheet;
Traffic of beauty a one-way street.
Sight gives man that is born of woman
Such a long time searching:
Man that is dumb of woman
Such a long time singing
Before the ashes and the root.
Words to words, must to must,
Flashes my need in the last cadence falling.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Is the structure of your thoughts intentional- a holding back of the intent of the phrase, so that the meaning stirkes you later after you have strived for it? (A pleasant striving.) It is intriguing.