Nothing but a spiders web of nerves
Expecting flies and payment for ones labor
Or someone cold into a warm spot sinking
To wrap in a quilt of bliss
In other words Gods kiss
I cannot do what I would do
I would still myself under the stars tonight
Under the white moon far away and cold
I would remember, I would forgive
And be forgiven too, and finally forget
But tomorrow again as ever
I will pass through the bent grass, and
Fiercely whisper a rabbit was killed
Down there on the road last night
And weep for it - though I weep for something else
For I cannot do What I would do
And the beating wings in me will never cease
Be quiet! Be quiet, in there oh mindless X of mankind, and
My own mindless X that beat like bat wings so
Return hang quiet once again
In that subterranean cave of the soul
Where neither pity nor remorse is
Cease beating
I cannot do what I would do
Ah tonight, tonight I would turn and smell the coming of the rain
Sweet rain that may never again come thus
For the web of the worlds weaving is set
And never as of yore will the next rain be but
Deadlier
That melts to the bone and washes the battle fields
And none can do what they would do
Only the hidden savagery of the heart at last
Lies there and in plain day we must kneel
To some terrible God of retribution and of woe
And give into his bloody keeping
The soft heart that jumps so -
And I cannot do what I must do
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What an intense piece. I was compelled to continue the read though feeling tension and dread at what must have inspired it. You are a wonderful poet.