Among the automobiles and in a region
Now Democratic, now Republican,
With a department-store, a branch of the Legion,
...
In Kamakura, near the great Daibutsu,
When I had sat a long time on the ground
And been gathered up, forgetful of my face and form,
...
Well, I was in the old Second Maine,
The first regiment in Washington from the Pine Tree State.
...
Fiercely I remove from you
All the little vestiges-
Garments that confine you,
Things that touch the flesh,
...
Clouds dream and disappear;
Waters dream in a rainbow and are gone;
Fire-dreams change with the sun
Or when a poppy closes;
...
Whether the time be slow or fast,
Enemies, hand in hand,
Must come together at the last
And understand.
...
By seven vineyards on one hill
We walked. The native wine
In clusters grew beside us two,
For your lips and for mine,
...
When I walked home forgotten,
When I walked home in grief,
I found a letter under my door.
...
Perhaps they laughed at Dante in his youth,
Told him that truth
Had unappealably been said
In the great masterpieces of the dead: --
...
Because we felt there could not be
A mowing in reality
So white and feathery-blown and gay
With blossoms of wild caraway,
...
In came the moon and covered me with wonder,
Touched me and was near me and made me very still.
In came a rush of song, like rain after thunder,
Pouring importunate on my window-sill.
...
Name me no names for my disease,
With uninforming breath;
I tell you I am none of these,
But homesick unto death --
...
Shall I say that what heaven gave
Earth has taken? --
Or that sleepers in the grave
Reawaken?
...
Though wisdom underfoot
Dies in the bloody fields,
Slowly the endless root
Gathers again and yields.
...
There is an island where a man alone,
Alive beyond the selfishness of living,
Knows the whole world around him as his own
...
Lest I learn, with clearer sight,
Such beauty cannot be -
Tie a bandage, pull it tight,
Blind me, I would not see!
...
Harold Witter Bynner (August 10, 1881 – June 1, 1968) was an American poet, writer and scholar, known for his long residence in Santa Fe, New Mexico, at what is now the Inn of the Turquoise Bear. Bynner settled in Santa Fe, in a steady and acknowledged 30-year homosexual relationship with Robert Hunt.[4] He became a friend of D. H. Lawrence, and traveled with him and Frieda von Richthofen in Mexico; he much later in 1951 wrote on Lawrence, while he and his partner Willard Johnson are portrayed in Lawrence's The Plumed Serpent. Bynner and Hunt had numerous parties at their house, hosting many notable writers, actors, and artists, which guests included Ansel Adams, Willa Cather, Igor Stravinsky, Edna St. Vincent Millay, Robert Frost, W. H. Auden, Aldous Huxley, Clara Bow, Errol Flynn, Rita Hayworth, Christopher Isherwood, Carl Van Vechten, Martha Graham, Georgia O'Keeffe and Thornton Wilder. On January 18, 1965, Bynner had a severe stroke. He never recovered, and required constant care until he died on June 1, 1968. His papers are archived in the New Mexico State University Library.)
Answer
Cease from the asking,
you receive the answer.
God is not God, life life
nor wonder wonder
Save as a man himself
becomes the dancer
Across all variations
of the thunder.
I'd like to see the poem Shantung here