I swear that I would not go back
To pole the glass fishpools where the rough breath lies
That built the Earth - there, under the heavy trees
We talk openly, and exchange souls.
Power-shocks of understanding knock us off our feet!
The same double life among the bores and vegetables,
Thinking we were safe-insanity!
We went in to make love. All the same
Idiots to trust the little hotel bedroom.
Then in the gloom…
Criminal, you took a great piece of my life,
And you took it under false pretences,
That piece of time
What a night! My past is very close.
Dark rag-and-satin April in the city
Moves its water lily breezes, one by one. My fading letters!
My café-au-lait sentences that groaned for love and money.
No, this is not my life, thank God...
...worn out like this, and crippled by brain-fag;
Obsessed first by one person, an then
(Almost at once) most horribly besotted by another:
I insist on vegetating here
In motheaten granduer. Haven't I plotted
Like a madman to get here? Well then.
A mighty air-sea, fierce and very clean
Was gliding in across the city.
Oxygenating gusts swept down and
Chloroformed us, in a light too bright to see by.
I am outside life, and pour the sand
For my own desert, recklessly.
But if some flame splashes over from my arab hours
Into your dismal, shadow-bathing century...
I have lived it , and lived it,
My nervous, luxury civilization,
My sugar-loving nerves have battered me to pieces.