Produced by Andrew Sly.

The Classics of the World

Goblin Market
The Prince's Progress
And other poems

By

Christina Rossetti

Humphrey Milford
Oxford University Press
London, Edinburgh, Glasgow
New York, Toronto, Melbourne & Bombay

Christina Rossetti

Born, 38 Charlotte Street, Portland Place, London, December 5, 1830
Died, 30 Torrington Square, London, December 29, 1894

'Goblin Market and other Poems' was first published in 1862,
'The Prince's Progress and other Poems' was first published in 1866.
In 'The World's Classics,' the contents of these two books, along
with other poems, were first published in one volume in 1913.

To
  MY MOTHER
  With all my respect and love
  I dedicate this book

Goblin Market
  In the Round Tower at Jhansi, June 8, 1857
  Dream Land
  At Home
  A Triad
  Love from the North
  Winter Rain
  Cousin Kate
  Noble Sisters
  Spring
  The Lambs of Grasmere, 1860
  A Birthday
  Remember
  After Death
  An End
  My Dream
  Song ('Oh roses for the flush of youth')
  The Hour and the Ghost
  A Summer Wish
  An Apple Gathering
  Song ('Two doves upon the selfsame branch')
  Maude Clare
  Echo
  My Secret
  Another Spring
  A Peal of Bells
  Fata Morgana
  'No, Thank you, John'
  May
  A Pause of Thought
  Twilight Calm
  Wife to Husband
  Three Seasons
  Mirage
  Shut out
  Sound Sleep
  Song ('She sat and sang alway')
  Song ('When I am dead, my dearest')
  Dead before Death
  Bitter for Sweet
  Sister Maude
  Rest
  The First Spring Day
  The Convent Threshold
  Up-hill

DEVOTIONAL PIECES
  'The Love of Christ that Surpasses Understanding'
  'A Bruised Reed He Will Not Break'
  A Better Resurrection
  Advent
  The Three Enemies
  The One Certainty
  Christian and Jew
  Sweet Death
  Symbols
  'Consider the Lilies of the Field'
  The World
  A Testimony
  Sleep at Sea
  From House to Home
  Old and New Year Ditties: No. I
    No. II
    No. III
  Amen

The Prince's Progress
  Maiden-Song
  Jessie Cameron
  Spring Quiet
  The Poor Ghost
  A Portrait
  Dream-Love
  Twice
  Songs in a Cornfield
  A Year's Windfalls
  The Queen of Hearts
  One Day
  A Bird's-Eye View
  Light Love
  A Dream
  A Ring Posy
  Beauty is Vain
  Lady Maggie
  What would I give?
  The Bourne
  Summer
  Autumn
  The Ghost's Petition
  Memory
  A Royal Princess
  Shall I Forget?
  Vanity of Vanities
  L. E. L.
  Life and Death
  Bird or Beast?
  Eve
  Grown and Flown
  A Farm Walk
  Somewhere or Other
  A Chill
  Child's Talk in April
  Gone for Ever
  Under the Rose

DEVOTIONAL PIECES
  Despised and Rejected
  Long Barren
  If Only
  Do You Not Care?
  Tired of Doing Good
  Martyrs' Song
  After This, the Judgment
  Good Friday
  The Lowest Place

Death's Chill Between
  Heart's Chill Between
  Regret
  Take a Seat in the Lowest Room
  My Friend
  Last Night
  Think About It
  Helen Grey
  'By the Waters of Babylon'
  Seasons
  Mother Country
  A Smile and a Sigh
  Lost Hope
  Autumn Violets
  'They Desire a Better Country'
  The Offering of the New Law
  Discussion between Christ, the Saints, and the Soul
  'Come to Me'
  'Jesus, Do I Love You?'
  'I Don't Know You'
  'Before the Fading of the Stars'
  Easter Evening
  Paradise: in a Dream
  Beyond the Veil
  Paradise: in a Symbol
  Love of the World
  Who Will Rescue Me?
  If
  Twilight Night

Morning and evening
The maids heard the goblins shout:
"Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy:
Apples and quinces,
Lemons and oranges,
Plump unblemished cherries,
Melons and raspberries,
Peaches with soft cheeks,
Dark-headed mulberries,
10
Wild and free cranberries,
Crab apples, dewberries,
Pineapples, blackberries,
Apricots, strawberries;—
All ripe at once
In the summer heat,—
Mornings that pass by,
Lovely evenings that fly;
Come buy, come buy:
Our grapes fresh from the vine, 20
Pomegranates full and beautiful,
Dates and sharp bullaces,
Rare pears and greengages,
Damsons and bilberries,
Taste them and try:
Currants and gooseberries,
Bright, fiery barberries,
Figs to fill your mouth,
Citrons from the South,
Sweet to the tongue and pleasing to the eye; 30
Come buy, come buy."

Evening after evening
By the stream's edge,
Laura lowered her head to listen,
Lizzie hid her blushes:
Crouching close together
In the cooling air,
With embracing arms and cautious lips,
With tingling cheeks and fingertips.
'Stay close,' Laura said, 40
Lifting her golden head:
'We can’t look at goblin men,
We mustn't buy their fruits:
Who knows what soil they used
To feed their hungry, thirsty roots?'
'Come buy,' call the goblins
Hobbling down the glen.
'Oh,' cried Lizzie, 'Laura, Laura,
You really shouldn't peek at goblin men.'
Lizzie covered her eyes, 50
Keeping them shut so they wouldn’t see;
Laura raised her shiny head,
And whispered like the restless stream:
'Look, Lizzie, look, Lizzie,
Down the glen come little men.
One carries a basket,
One holds a plate,
One drags a golden dish
That must weigh many pounds.
How beautiful the vine must be 60
Whose grapes are so sweet;
How warm the wind must blow
Through those fruit bushes.'
'No,' said Lizzie, 'No, no, no;
Their offers shouldn’t tempt us,
Their harmful gifts would hurt us.'
She pressed a dimpled finger
In each ear, shut her eyes, and ran:
Curious Laura chose to stay
Wondering at each merchant man. 70
One had a cat's face,
One whipped a tail,
One walked at a rat's pace,
One crawled like a snail,
One like a wombat prowled, fuzzy and low,
One like a badger scurried around in a hurry.
She heard a voice like doves' voices
Cooing all together:
They sounded sweet and full of love
In the pleasant weather. 80

Laura stretched her shining neck
Like a swan in a rush-filled pond,
Like a lily from the stream,
Like a moonlit poplar branch,
Like a boat about to launch
When it's finally free to go.

Backwards up the mossy glen
Turned and marched the goblin men,
With their loud repeated cry,
'Come buy, come buy.' 90
When they reached where Laura was
They stood still upon the moss,
Grinning at each other,
Brother with strange brother;
Signaling each other,
Brother with sly brother.
One set his basket down,
One raised his plate;
One began to weave a crown
Of tendrils, leaves, and rough brown nuts 100
(You can’t find this stuff in any town);
One lifted the golden weight
Of dish and fruit to offer her:
'Come buy, come buy,' was still their cry.
Laura stared but didn’t move,
Wanted it but had no money:
The whisk-tailed merchant urged her to taste
In tones as sweet as honey,
The cat-faced purred,
The rat-faced spoke a word 110
Of welcome, and the slow-paced even was heard;
One parrot-voiced and jolly
Cried 'Pretty Goblin' still for 'Pretty Polly;'—
One whistled like a bird.

But sweet-tooth Laura hurriedly said:
"Good people, I have no money;
To take would be stealing:
I have no coins in my purse,
I have no silver either,
And all my gold is out on the heath 120
That shakes in windy weather
Above the rusty heather."
"You have a lot of gold on your head,"
They all replied together:
"Buy from us with a golden curl."
She cut a precious golden lock,
She dropped a tear more valuable than a pearl,
Then tasted their fruit, whether it was fair or red:
Sweeter than honey from the rock,
Stronger than wine that makes men rejoice, 130
Clearer than water flowed that juice;
She had never tasted anything like it before,
How could it ever get old with time?
She kept sucking more and more
Of the fruits from that unknown orchard;
She sucked until her lips were sore;
Then threw away the empty skins
But picked up one seed,
And didn’t know if it was night or day
As she made her way home alone. 140

Lizzie met her at the gate
Full of wise scolding:
"Dear, you shouldn’t stay out so late,
Twilight isn’t good for young women;
You shouldn’t hang around in the glen
Where goblin men lurk.
Don’t you remember Jeanie,
How she encountered them in the moonlight,
Took their gifts, both special and many,
Ate their fruits and wore their flowers 150
Picked from gardens
Where summer thrives at all times?
But even in the daylight
She pined and pined away;
Sought them night and day,
Couldn’t find them anymore, but wasted away and turned grey;
Then she fell with the first snow,
And to this day, no grass will grow
Where she lies buried:
I planted daisies there a year ago 160
That never bloom.
You shouldn’t linger like that."
"Nay, hush," said Laura:
"Nay, hush, my sister:
I ate and ate my fill,
Yet my mouth is still watering;
Tomorrow night I will
Get more:" and kissed her:
"Enough of sorrow;
I’ll bring you plums tomorrow 170
Fresh from their mother branches,
Cherries worth having;
You can't imagine what figs
I’ve tasted,
What icy-cold melons
Piled on a plate of gold
Too big for me to hold,
What peaches with a velvet skin,
Clear grapes with not one seed:
The meadow they grow in must be fragrant 180
And the water they drink pure
With lilies at the edge,
And sweet must be their juice."

Golden head by golden head,
Like two pigeons in one nest,
Wrapped in each other's wings,
They lay down in their cozy bed:
Like two flowers on one stem,
Like two flakes of freshly fallen snow,
Like two ivory wands 190
Tipped with gold for mighty kings.
Moon and stars looked in at them,
Wind sang them a lullaby,
Heavy owls held back from flying,
Not a bat flitted back and forth
Around their rest:
Cheek to cheek and chest to chest,
Locked together in one nest.

Early in the morning
When the first rooster crowed his warning, 200
Busy like bees, sweet and active,
Laura got up with Lizzie:
Collected honey, milked the cows,
Tidied up the house,
Kneaded cakes from the finest flour,
Cakes for delicate mouths to enjoy,
Then churned butter, whipped up cream,
Fed their chickens, sat and sewed;
Talked like modest young women should:
Lizzie with an open heart, 210
Laura lost in her own thoughts,
One content, one partly unwell;
One singing for the simple joy of the day,
One yearning for the night.

At last, the slow evening arrived:
They went to the grassy stream with pitchers;
Lizzie looked calm and serene,
While Laura was like a dancing flame.
They drew the bubbling water from its depths;
Lizzie gathered purple and golden flags,
Then turned towards home and said: 'The sunset lights up
Those far-off, towering peaks;
Come on, Laura, no other girls are waiting,
No pesky squirrel is playing around,
The animals and birds are fast asleep.'
But Laura lingered among the reeds
And said the bank was steep.

And said the hour was still early
The dew hadn’t fallen, the wind wasn’t cold:
Always listening, but not catching
The usual call,
'Come buy, come buy,'
With its repeated jingle
Of sweet-talking phrases:
Despite all her watching,
Not once did she spot a goblin
Racing, darting, tumbling, limping;
Let alone the crowds
That used to walk through the glen,
In groups or alone,
Of lively fruit-sellers.

Till Lizzie urged, 'O Laura, come;
I hear the call of the fruit but I can't look:
You shouldn't hang around any longer at this brook:
Come with me home.
The stars are rising, the moon is bending her arc,
Each glowworm blinks its spark,
Let's get home before it gets dark:
Because clouds might gather
Even though it’s summer weather, 250
Douse the lights and soak us completely;
Then if we lost our way, what would we do?'

Laura felt as cold as stone
When she realized her sister heard that cry alone,
That goblin cry,
'Come buy our fruits, come buy.'
Did she really have to stop buying such tasty fruit?
Would she not find such delicious food anymore,
Now deaf and blind?
Her tree of life wilted from the roots: 260
She didn’t say a word, just felt her heart ache;
But peering through the dimness, seeing nothing,
She trudged home, her pitcher dripping all the way;
She crept to bed and lay
Silent until Lizzie fell asleep;
Then she sat up in passionate longing,
Gnashed her teeth from unfulfilled desire, and wept
As if her heart would break.

Day after day, night after night,
Laura watched in vain 270
In deep silence filled with pain.
She never heard the goblin call:
'Come buy, come buy;'—
She never saw the goblin men
Selling their fruits along the glen:
But when noon became bright
Her hair grew thin and gray;
She faded, like the beautiful full moon does
Into swift decay and burns
Her light away. 280

One day, remembering her seed,
She placed it by a south-facing wall;
Watered it with her tears, hoping it would take root,
Watched for new growth,
But nothing came;
It never saw the sun,
It never felt the trickle of moisture:
While with downcast eyes and a tired mouth,
She dreamed of melons, like a traveler sees
Illusions of waves in a desert drought
With the shade of leafy trees,
And grows thirstier in the sandy breeze.

She no longer swept the house,
Took care of the chickens or cows,
Fetched honey, kneaded wheat cakes,
Brought water from the stream:
But sat down feeling lost in the corner by the fireplace
And wouldn’t eat.

Tender Lizzie couldn't stand
To see her sister's painful struggle
Yet didn’t want to not be involved.
Every night and morning
She heard the goblins' call:
'Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy:'—
By the brook, through the glen,
She heard the footsteps of goblin men,
The voice and movement
Poor Laura couldn’t hear;
Longed to buy fruit to cheer her up,
But was scared to pay too high a price.
She thought of Jeanie in her grave,
Who should have been a bride;
But who for the joys brides hope to find
Fell ill and died
In her vibrant youth,
In the early Winter time
With the first frost forming,
With the first snowfall of crisp Winter time.

Till Laura was fading away 320
It felt like she was at Death's door:
Then Lizzie felt just as light
As better or worse;
But she put a silver penny in her purse,
Kissed Laura, crossed the heath with patches of gorse
At twilight, stopped by the stream:
And for the first time in her life
Started to listen and look.

Laughed every goblin
When they saw her peeking: 330
Came towards her hobbled,
Flying, running, jumping,
Puffing and blowing,
Chuckling, clapping, cheering,
Clucking and gobbling,
Mopping and mowing,
Full of airs and graces,
Making funny faces,
Shy grimaces,
Cat-like and rat-like, 340
Ratel- and wombat-like,
Slow but in a rush,
Parrot-voiced and whistler,
All over the place, in a hurry,
Chattering like magpies,
Fluttering like pigeons,
Gliding like fishes,—
Hugged her and kissed her:
Squeezed and cuddled her:
Stretched out their dishes, 350
Baskets, and plates:
'Look at our apples
Russet and brown,
Pick at our cherries,
Bite into our peaches,
Citrons and dates,
Grapes if you want,
Pears red from soaking
In the sun,
Plums on their branches; 360
Pick them and suck them,
Pomegranates, figs.'—

'Good people,' said Lizzie,
Thinking of Jeanie:
'Give me a lot:'—
Held out her apron,
Tossed them her penny.
'No, come sit with us,
Enjoy and eat with us,'
They replied, grinning: 370
'Our feast is just starting.
The night is still young,
Warm and sparkling with dew,
Awake and starry:
These fruits, no one can carry;
If you took half their bloom,
Half their dew would dry,
Half their flavor would pass by.
Sit down and feast with us, 380
Be our welcome guest,
Enjoy yourself and rest with us.'—
'Thank you,' said Lizzie: 'But someone waits
At home alone for me:
So without talking more,
If you won't sell me any
Of your fruits, no matter how many,
Please give me back my silver penny
I tossed you as payment.'—
They started scratching their heads, 390
No longer friendly, purring,
But clearly refusing,
Grunting and growling.
One called her arrogant,
Rude, unkind;
Their voices grew louder,
Their expressions were evil.
Lashing their tails,
They pushed and shoved her,
Elbowed and bumped her, 400
Clawed with their nails,
Barking, meowing, hissing, mocking,
Tore her dress and ruined her stockings,
Pulled her hair out by the roots,
Stamped on her tender feet,
Held her hands and squeezed their fruits
Against her mouth to make her eat.

White and golden Lizzie stood,
Like a lily in a flood,—
Like a rock of blue-veined stone 410
Smashed by wild waves,—
Like a lighthouse all alone
In a gray, roaring sea,
Sending up a golden light,—
Like a fruit-laden orange tree
White with sweet-smelling blossoms
Under attack by wasps and bees,—
Like a royal maiden town
Topped with a golden dome and spire
Surrounded by a fleet 420
Desperate to pull her flag down.

One can lead a horse to water,
But you can’t make it drink.
Even though the goblins grabbed her,
Tried to coax and fight her,
Bullying and begging her,
Scratched her, pinched her black as ink,
Kicked and knocked her,
Mauled and mocked her,
Lizzie didn’t say a word; 430
Wouldn’t open her lips
For fear they’d stuff her mouth full:
But she laughed inside to feel the drip
Of juice that syruped all her face,
And settled in the dimples of her chin,
And streaked her neck which shook like curd.
Finally, the evil ones,
Worn out by her resistance,
Threw back her penny, kicked their fruit
Along whichever path they took, 440
Leaving no root, stone, or shoot;
Some wriggled into the ground,
Some dove into the brook
With a ring and ripple,
Some raced on the wind without a sound,
Some disappeared into the distance.

In a smart, aching tingle,
Lizzie went on her way;
She didn't know if it was night or day;
She ran up the bank, tore through the bushes, 450
Threaded through the thicket,
And heard her penny jingle
Bouncing in her purse,—
Its bounce was music to her ears.
She ran and ran
As if she feared some goblin man
Was following her with mockery or curse
Or something worse:
But not one goblin scurried after,
Nor was she pricked by fear; 460
Her kind heart made her run quickly
That urged her home, quite out of breath from the hurry
And inner laughter.

She called out 'Laura,' from the garden,
'Did you miss me?
Come and kiss me.
Forget about my bruises,
Hug me, kiss me, taste my sweetness
Squeezed from goblin fruits for you,
Goblin pulp and goblin dew. 470
Eat me, drink me, love me;
Laura, cherish me:
For your sake, I faced the glen
And dealt with goblin merchant men.'

Laura jumped out of her chair,
Threw her arms up in the air,
Grabbed her hair:
'Lizzie, Lizzie, have you tried
The forbidden fruit for my sake?
Does your light have to be hidden like mine,
Your youthful life wasted like mine,
Lost because of my downfall,
And destroyed with my ruin,
Thirsty, tainted, plagued by goblins?'—
She held onto her sister,
Kissed and kissed and kissed her:
Tears flowed again
Refreshing her tired eyes,
Falling like rain
After a long, dry spell; 490
Shaking with deep fear and pain,
She kissed and kissed her with a desperate mouth.

Her lips started to burn,
That juice was bitter on her tongue,
She hated the feast:
Writhing like someone possessed, she jumped and sang,
Tore her robe, and wrung
Her hands in desperate haste,
And beat her chest.
Her hair flowed like a torch 500
Carried by a runner at full speed,
Or like the mane of horses as they gallop,
Or like an eagle when she flies into the light
Straight toward the sun,
Or like a trapped creature freed,
Or like a waving flag when armies advance.

Swift fire rushed through her veins, knocked at her heart,
Met the smoldering fire there
And overpowered its smaller flame;
She devoured bitterness without a name: 510
Ah! What a fool, to choose such a path
Of soul-consuming care!
Her senses failed in the struggle:
Like the watchtower of a town
That an earthquake brings down,
Like a lightning-struck mast,
Like a tree torn from the ground
Spun around,
Like a foamy waterspout
Dropped headfirst into the sea, 520
She finally fell;
Pleasure gone and pain gone,
Is it death or is it life?

Life out of death.
That night, Lizzie kept watch over her,
Counted the weak pulses of her heartbeat,
Felt for her breath,
Held water to her lips, and cooled her face
With tears and the rustle of leaves:
But when the first birds chirped around their eaves, 530
And early harvesters trudged to the spot
Of golden bundles,
And dew-drenched grass
Bowed in the fresh morning breeze,
And new buds with the new day
Opened like cup-shaped lilies on the stream,
Laura woke as if from a dream,
Laughed in her sweet, innocent way,
Hugged Lizzie but not more than twice or thrice;
Her shining hair had no hint of grey, 540
Her breath was as sweet as May
And light danced in her eyes.

Days, weeks, months, years
Later, when they were both wives
With kids of their own;
Their motherly hearts filled with fears,
Their lives intertwined with those they loved;
Laura would gather the little ones
And share stories from her younger days,
Those enjoyable times long gone 550
Of moments that wouldn’t return:
Would talk about the haunted glen,
The strange and tricky fruit sellers,
Their fruits sweet as honey on the throat
But toxic to the blood;
(Men don’t sell such things in any town.)
Would tell them how her sister risked everything
To help her out,
And get the fiery antidote:
Then joining hands to little hands 560
Would ask them to stick together,
'For there is no friend like a sister
In good times or bad;
To encourage you on the long path,
To find you if you go off course,
To lift you up if you stumble,
To support you while you stand.'

June 8, 1857

A hundred, a thousand to one; even so;
  Not a hope in the world remained:
The crowd of desperate people below
  Kept getting closer and closer.

Skene looked at his pale young wife:—
  'Is the time here?'—'The time is here!'—
Young, strong, and bursting with life:
  The pain left them speechless.

Wrap his arm around her now,
  Press her cheek against his, 10
Put the gun to her head—
  God forgive them for this!

'Will it hurt a lot?'—'No, my own:
  I wish I could take the pain for both.'
'I wish I could take the pain myself:
  Stay strong, dear, I'm not unwilling.'

Kiss and kiss: 'It’s not painful
  To kiss and die.
One more kiss.'—'And one more.'—
  'Goodbye.'—'Goodbye.' 20

Where sunless rivers cry
Their waves into the deep,
She sleeps a magical sleep:
  Don’t wake her up.
Guided by a single star,
She traveled from far away
To find where shadows are
  Her happy place.

She left the pink morning,
She left the cornfields,
For the cold and lonely twilight
  And water springs.
Through sleep, like a veil,
She sees the sky look pale,
And hears the nightingale
  That sadly sings.

Rest, rest, a perfect rest
Covering her brow and chest;
Her face is turned toward the west,
  The purple land. 20
She can't see the grain
Ripening on the hills and fields;
She can't feel the rain
  On her hand.

Rest, rest, forever
On a mossy shore;
Rest, rest at the heart's center
  Until time stops:
Sleep that pain can't disturb;
Night that morning can't shatter
30
Until joy finds
  Her perfect peace.

When I was dead, my spirit turned
  To seek the often-visited place:
I walked by the door and saw my friends
  Partying under the green orange branches;
They passed the wine from one person to another,
  Enjoying the fruit of plum and peach;
They sang, joked, and laughed,
  For everyone was loved by one another.

I listened to their genuine conversation:
  One said, 'Tomorrow we’ll 10
Trudge along the endless sands,
  And sail miles and miles of sea.'
One added, 'Before the tide turns
  We’ll reach our lofty spot.'
Another said, 'Tomorrow will be like
  Today, but even sweeter.'

'Tomorrow,' they said, filled with hope,
  And focused on the bright path ahead:
'Tomorrow,' they shouted, all together,
  While no one mentioned yesterday. 20
Their lives were at a joyful peak;
  I, only I, had moved on:
'Tomorrow and today,' they called out;
  I was part of yesterday.

I shivered uncomfortably, but didn’t let
  Any cold touch the tablecloth;
I, all-forgotten, shivered, feeling blue
  Wanting to stay, yet reluctant to leave:
I left the familiar room,
  I who had moved on from love,
Like the memory of a guest
  Who only stays for a day.

Sonnet

Three sang of love together: one with lips
  Crimson, with cheeks and chest glowing,
Flushed to her blonde hair and fingertips;
  And one sang who was soft and smooth as snow
  Bloomed like a colorful hyacinth at a show;
And one was blue from longing after love,
  Who, like a harp string snapped, sounded harsh and low
The burden of what those two were singing about.
One embarrassed herself in love; one mildly
  Grew sluggish in soulless love, a tired wife;
One starved and died for love. Thus two of the three
  Took death for love and found him after struggle;
One droned in sweetness like a well-fed bee:
  All on the threshold, yet all short of life.

I had a love in the gentle southern land,
  Cherished from April deep into May;
He hung on my every word,
  And never dared to say no to me.

He got upset if my happiness was dampened,
  But he brightened up if I was cheerful;
We never disagreed on anything,
  My yes was his yes, my no was his no.

The wedding hour had arrived, the aisles
  Were bright with sunshine and flowers that day; 10
I was walking, lost in my thoughts:
  'It's way too late to think about anything.'—

My groom replied in his turn,
  I almost said 'yes:'
When through the bright aisle I heard
  A fight and a loud 'no.'

Bridesmaids and the groom were terrified,
  But I stood tall, ready to face it:
'And if I say yes, good Sir,
  Who are you to say no?' 20

He was a strong man from the north,
  Light-haired, with eyes of dangerous gray:
'Put it off for another time
  When I won’t say no to you.'

He lifted me in his strong white arms,
  He carried me on his horse away
Over cliffs, swamps, and narrow paths,
  But never asked me yes or no.

He made me quick with book and bell,
  With ties of love he keeps me here; 30
Until now I've had neither heart nor strength
  Nor desire nor wish to say no to him.

Every valley absorbs,
  Every dell and hollow:
Where the gentle rain soaks in,
  Green of Spring will come.

Yet a few weeks later
  Buds will burst open,
Shedding their fuzzy coats, sticky coatings, color streaks,
  In the woods and hedges;

Weave a cozy shelter of love
  For birds to gather together, 10
Weave a roof above
  Nest and egg and mother.

But for the nourishing rain
  We wouldn't have any flowers,
Never a bud or leaf again
  But for the soaking showers;

Never a paired bird
  In the swaying treetops,
Never truly a flock or herd
  To feed on the meadow crops. 20

Lambs so fluffy white,
  Sheep in the sunny fields,
They wouldn't have any grass to munch
  If it weren't for seasonal rain.

We shouldn't find any moss
  In the shadiest spots,
Find no swaying meadow grass
  Mixed with broad-eyed daisies:

But miles of empty sand,
  With never a son or daughter, 30
Not a lily on the ground,
  Or lily on the water.

I was a cottage girl
  Toughened by sun and wind,
Happy with my cottage friends,
  Not aware I was pretty.
Why did a wealthy lord notice me,
  And compliment my blonde hair?
Why did a wealthy lord notice me
  To fill my heart with worry?

He brought me to his palace—
  Oh, how joyful that was— 10
To live a life filled with disgrace,
  His toy and his love.
He treated me like a silken ribbon,
  He replaced me like a glove;
Now I lament, feeling so tainted,
  When I could have been pure as a dove.

O Lady Kate, my cousin Kate,
  You grew more beautiful than I:
He saw you at your dad's gate,
  Chose you, and left me behind. 20
He watched your steps down the lane,
  Your work in the rye;
He lifted you from a low status
  To sit with him up high.

Because you were so good and innocent
  He bound you with his ring:
The neighbors call you good and innocent,
  Call me an outcast thing.
Even so I sit and wail in the dirt,
  You sit in gold and sing:
Now which of us has the kinder heart?
  You had the stronger wing.

O cousin Kate, my love was real,
  Your love was written in sand:
If he had deceived not me but you,
  If you were in my place,
He wouldn't have won me with his love
  Nor bought me with his wealth;
I would have spat in his face
  And not taken his hand. 40

Yet I have a gift you don’t have,
  And it doesn’t look like you'll ever get it:
With all your fancy clothes and wedding ring,
  I'm sure you’re feeling stressed.
My fair-haired son, my shame, my pride,
  Hold on tighter, hold on even closer:
Your father would give up land for just one
  To wear his crown.

'Did you see a falcon,
  Sister dear, sister dear,
Flying toward my window
  In the cool, clear morning?
With jingling bells around her neck,
  But what was underneath her wing?
It might have been a ribbon,
  Or it could have been a ring.'—
      'I saw a falcon swooping
        At the break of day; 10
      And for your love, my sister dove,
        I scared the thief away.'—

'Or did you see a red hound,
  Sister, beautiful and tall,
Sniffing around my garden,
  Or crouched by my bower wall?
With a silky leash around his neck;
  But in his mouth could be
A chain of gold and silver links,
  Or a letter written to me.'— 20
      'I heard a hound, dear sister,
        Barking at the moon;
      I got up and chased him from your wall
        So you wouldn't wake up too soon.'—

'Or did you meet a handsome page
  Sitting on the gate;
Singing like a bird,
  Or maybe slept in late;
With eaglets embroidered on his cap,
  And eaglets on his glove? 30
If you had turned his pockets inside out,
  You would have found some token of love.'—
      'I met him at daybreak,
        When the east was just turning red:
      To avoid the creaking gate upsetting you,
        I sent him back to bed.'—

'Oh, be patient, sister. Did you see
  A young man who's tall and strong,
Quick on his feet to defend what's right
  And to get rid of what's wrong, 40
Coming home across the empty sea
  To ask me to be his wife?
And in his heart, my heart is locked,
  And in his life, my life.'—
      'I met a nameless man, sister,
        Right by your chamber door:
      I said: Her husband loves her a lot.
        And yet she loves him even more.'—

'Sister, shame on you, what a cruel lie,
  A lie, a cruel lie, 50
I have no other love but him,
  And I won’t until I die.
You’ve chased him from our home,
  And hurt him with a lie:
I will search for him through the world
  In grief until I die.'—
      'Go search in grief, sister,
        And find grief too:
      If you bring shame to our father's name,
        Then my curse goes with you.' 60

Frost has locked everything away for winter,
Seeds, roots, and stones of fruits,
What will make their sap rise
So they can start to shoot?
Tips of soft green,
Leaf, blade, or sheath;
Hinting at the hidden life
That breaks through beneath,
Life nurtured in its grave by Death.

The thawing breeze feels nice, 10
The soaking rain drips down,
At times the waking sun peeks out:
Young grass pops up across the field;
Fresh leaves cover the young hedgerow trees;
Seeds, roots, and fruit stones,
Swollen with sap, start to sprout;
Curled ferns push through the lane;
Birds are singing and pairing up again.

There’s no time like spring,
When life is buzzing everywhere, 20
Before the baby birds start to sing,
Before the swallows race back
Along their endless route—
God guides their flight,
He provides for them so they have everything they need,—
Before the daisy becomes an everyday flower,
Before the sun gains the strength
To scorch the earth in the midday heat.

There’s no time like Spring,
Like Spring that moves on quickly; 30
There’s no life like the Spring-life that’s born to fade,—
Breaking through the ground,
Dressing the rough earth,
Hatched in the nest,
Ready to fly on the breezy branch,
Strong in the air:
There’s no time like Spring that passes quickly,
Now just born, and now
Rushing toward the end.

The mountain flocks looked thin and underfed:
  Their shepherds could hardly feed the lambs
Whose milkless mothers nudged them,
  Or who were left without their moms.
The thirsty lambs cried out for milk
  Filled the area with heartbreaking sounds:
The bones of their mothers lay scattered for miles
  Across the barren, soggy pasture land.

Day after day, night after night,
  From lamb to lamb the shepherds walked, 10
With teapots for the bleating mouths
  Instead of natural food.
The little shivering, gaping creatures
  Quickly recognized the footsteps that brought them help,
And nuzzled the caring hand,
  And rubbed their woolly heads against it.

Then, as the days turned into weeks,
  It was a lovely sight to see
These playful lambs with lively heads and tails
  Jumping and bounding in the meadow, 20
Bleating in gentle, trusting sounds,
  Resting on rocky ledges or hills.
And following the cherished feet
  That once searched for them and found.

These very shepherds of their flocks,
  These loving lambs so gentle to please,
Deserve to have their stories told
  And recognition in their rightful place:
So I could live a hundred years,
  And travel from shore to distant shore, 30
Yet never forget this overflowing spring
  And barely saved lambs of Westmoreland.

My heart is like a singing bird
  Whose nest is in a well-watered shoot;
My heart is like an apple tree
  Whose branches are weighed down with ripe fruit;
My heart is like a colorful shell
  That floats in a calm sea;
My heart is happier than all these
  Because my love has come to me.

Raise me a platform of silk and soft feathers;
  Decorate it with fur and purple dyes;
Carve it with doves and pomegranates,
  And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Adorn it with gold and silver grapes,
  In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;
Because the birthday of my life
  Has arrived, my love has come to me.

Sonnet

Remember me when I'm gone,
  Gone far away to the quiet place;
  When you can't hold my hand anymore,
Nor I can turn to leave but still stay.
Remember me when you no longer share
  Daily visions of our plans for the future:
  Just remember me; you know
It'll be too late to offer advice or pray.
But if you forget me for a bit
  And then remember, don’t be upset:
  For if the darkness and decay leave
  A trace of the thoughts I once had,
It’s much better to forget and smile
  Than to remember and feel sad.

Sonnet

The curtains were halfway drawn, the floor was cleaned
  And scattered with rushes, rosemary, and may
  Lay thick on the bed where I lay,
Where ivy shadows crept through the lattice.
He leaned over me, thinking I was asleep
  And couldn’t hear him; but I heard him say:
  'Poor child, poor child:' and as he turned away
Came a deep silence, and I knew he was crying.
He didn’t touch the shroud or lift the fold
  That covered my face, or take my hand in his,
    Or mess up the smooth pillows for my head:
    He didn’t love me when I was alive; but now that I’m dead
  He pities me; and it’s very sweet to know
He’s still warm even though I am cold.

Love, as powerful as Death, is gone.
Come, let’s prepare his resting place
Among the fading flowers:
A green patch at his head;
And a stone at his feet,
Where we can sit
In the peaceful evening hours.

He was born in the spring,
And died before the harvest:
On the last warm summer day 10
He left us; he wouldn’t stay
For autumn's cold and gray twilight.
Let’s sit by his grave and sing
He is gone away.

To a few chords, soft and low
We sing like this:
Let our eyes stay on the grass
Covered in shadows as the years go by
As we remember all that was
Long ago. 20

Hear now a strange dream I had last night
Every word of it is carefully considered truth.

I stood by the Euphrates as it flooded
Like the overflowing Jordan in its early days:
It grew and changed visibly before my eyes;
Until from countless pregnant waves emerged
Young crocodiles, a thin, harsh-looking bunch,
Maybe just hatched and covered in morning dew.
If I continue, I worry my friend
My closest friend would think the story's fake; 10
So it’s probably best left unsaid;
But if you want, well, listen to the whole thing.

Each crocodile was adorned with massive gold
And polished stones that matched their wearers:
But one stood out, growing larger than the rest,
Wearing a more majestic belt and a royal crown,
While crowns and orbs and scepters decorated his chest.
All shimmered green with scale upon scale,
But his armor had a special shine
And an ominous weight rested on his glare;
His smaller brothers trembled before his tail,
Broad as a beam, powerful like a flail.
So he became the lord and master of his kin:
But who will tell the tale of all their suffering?
A terrible hunger surged,
He feasted on them, crushed and devoured them whole.
He followed no laws, felt no constraints,
But ground them with a relentless jaw:
The rich fat dripped from his chin,
Seeped from his nostrils and his eyes,
While still, like a ravenous beast, he filled his mouth;
Until every smaller crocodile was dead
And buried as well, he himself stuffed to capacity,
He slept with a heavy breath and unsteady claws.
Oh, how strange the marvel I saw next:
In sleep, he shrank to a common size,
And all the grandeur faded from his skin.
Then from afar, a winged vessel appeared,
Swift as a swallow, subtle as a flame:
I don’t know what it carried on board,
But it was as white as an avenging ghost.
It leveled the mighty Euphrates in its path;
Supreme yet weightless like a drifting speck
It seemed to calm the waters without effort
Until not a murmur stirred nor wave crashed:
Look, as the purple shadow swept the sands,
The cautious crocodile rose to his feet
And shed appropriate tears, wringing his hands.

What could it mean? you ask. I don’t answer
For meaning, but I must respond, What? 50
And recount it as I witnessed it right there.

Oh roses for the bloom of youth,
  And laurel for the peak of life;
But pick an ivy branch for me
  Aging too soon in this strife.

Oh violets for the grave of youth,
  And bay for those who died young;
Give me the dried leaves I picked
  Back in the old days.

O love, love, hold me tight,
He pulls me away from you;
I can't resist the force,
Or the freezing, powerful sea:
A light shines far away
Beyond the hills and pine trees;
It's lit for me.

I have you close, my dear,
No fear can come near;
Only far away does the northern light shine bright. 10

Come with me, beautiful yet deceitful,
To our home, come home.
It’s my voice that’s calling:
Once you weren’t scared
When I courted you, and said,
'Come, our nest is freshly built'—
Now cross the churning waves.

Hold me just a moment longer,
He mocks me with the past,
His grip is getting stronger, 20
Hold me tight, hold me tight.
He pulls me from your heart,
And I can’t resist:
He tells my spirit to leave
With him into the cold:—
Oh bitter promises from the past!

Lean on me, cover your eyes:
Only we’re here, the earth and skies,
So be smart about this.

Lean on me, come with me, 30
I will guide and support you:
Come, because I won’t wait:
Come, for the home and bed are prepared.
Ah, certainly a bed and home,
Through good times and bad, for life and death:
A goal achieved with heavy breaths:
Come, let’s celebrate our promises.

One moment, just one more word,
While my heart still beats,
While my breath is taken
By my weakening will.
Oh friend, don’t abandon me,
Don’t forget as I forgot:
But hold your heart for me,
Keep your faith strong and bright;
Through the lonely, cold winter night,
Maybe I'll come to you.

No more peace, my love, peace:
Let these dreams and fears stop:
Who talked about death or change or anything but comfort? 50

O beautiful, delicate sin,
O sad harvest we’ve reaped!
You will visit him again
To see his heart grow cold;
To feel the gnawing pain
I once knew all too well;
To watch someone much more lovely
Take the empty seat,
Fill his heart and bear his children:—
While you and I together
In the harsh weather
Toss and howl and spin.

Live your sweet life fully,
  Sweet Rose, covered in dew,
Let your evening dew fall
To collect it again
When the day is bright:
  I believe you were made
Mainly to bring joy.

Sing in the quiet sky,
  Happy soaring bird;
Sing out your notes on high 10
To sunbeam wandering by
Or passing cloud;
  Unconcerned if you’re heard
Sing your whole song out loud.

Oh, if only I were like the flower;
  Blooming on my own tree
For the butterfly and bee
On summer mornings:
  That I could bloom my moment 20
A rose despite the thorns.

Oh, if only my work were done
  Like birds that fly
Enjoying the sun:
So that when my time is up
And daylight fades,
  I could finally rest again
Cool with refreshing dew.

I picked pink blossoms from my apple tree
  And wore them in my hair all evening:
Then when the time came for me to check
    I found no apples there.

With a hanging basket all along the grass
  As I arrived, I took the same path back:
My neighbors laughed as they saw me walk
    So empty-handed on the way back.

Lilian and Lilias smiled as they walked by,
  Their overflowing basket mocked me like a taunt; 10
They sang sweetly beneath the sunset sky,
    Their mother’s home was close by.

Plump Gertrude walked by with her full basket,
  A stronger hand than hers assisted her;
A voice chatted with her in the cool shadows
    More pleasing to me than a song.

Ah Willie, Willie, was my love worth less
  Than apples with green leaves stacked on top?
I counted the most beautiful apples on Earth
    As far less valuable than love. 20

So once it was with me you stopped to talk
  Laughing and listening in this very lane:
To think that on this path we used to walk
    We won’t walk again!

I let my neighbors walk by, one or two at a time
  And in groups; the latest said the night was getting colder,
And hurried off: but I lingered, while the drops
    Of dew fell quickly I kept lingering.

Two doves on the same branch,
  Two lilies on one stem,
Two butterflies on a single flower:—
  Oh how lucky are those who see them.

Who looks at them hand in hand
  Blushing in the warm summer light;
Who looks at them hand in hand
  And never thinks about the night.

Out of the church she followed them
  With a proud step and demeanor:
His bride was like a country girl,
  Maude Clare was like a queen.

'Son Thomas,' his mother said,
  With smiles, almost tears:
'May you and Nell live as true
  As we have for all these years;

'Your father thirty years ago
  Had just your story to share; 10
But he wasn't as pale as you,
  Nor was I as pale as Nell.'

My lord was pale with inner conflict,
  And Nell was pale with pride;
My lord stared for a long time at pale Maude Clare
  Before he kissed the bride.

'Look, I have brought my gift, my lord,
  I have brought my gift,' she said:
'To bless the home, to bless the table,
  To bless the marriage bed. 20

'Here's my half of the golden chain
  You wore around your neck,
That day we waded ankle-deep
  For lilies in the stream:

'Here's my share of the faded leaves
  We picked from the budding branches,
With our feet among the lily leaves,—
  The lilies are starting to bloom now.'

He tried to respond to her contempt with contempt,
  He hesitated in his spot: 30
'Lady,' he said,—'Maude Clare,' he said,—
  'Maude Clare:'—and covered his face.

She turned to Nell: 'My Lady Nell,
  I have a gift for you;
Though, if it were fruit, the bloom would be gone,
  Or, if it were flowers, the dew.'

'Take my share of an unreliable heart,
  Mine of a meager love:
Take it or leave it as you wish,
  I’m done with it.' 40

'And what you leave,' said Nell, 'I'll take,
  And what you reject, I'll wear;
For he's my lord for better or worse,
  And him I love, Maude Clare.

'Yes, even though you're taller by a head,
  Wiser, and way more beautiful;
I'll love him until he loves me most,
  Me more than anyone, Maude Clare.'

Come to me in the quiet of the night;
  Come in the gentle silence of a dream;
Come with soft, rounded cheeks and eyes that shine
  Like sunlight on a stream;
    Come back in tears,
O memory, hope, love of the years gone by.

Oh dream, how sweet, way too sweet, too bittersweet,
  Whose waking should have taken place in Paradise,
Where souls filled with love come together;
  Where longing eyes that ache 10
    Watch the slow door
That, when it opens, lets in but never lets out.

Yet come to me in dreams, so I can live
  My true life again, even though I'm cold in death:
Come back to me in dreams, so I can give
  Pulse for pulse, breath for breath:
    Speak softly, lean close,
Just like before, my love, oh how long ago!

I share my secret? Not at all:
Maybe someday, who can say?
But not today; it's cold, windy, and snowy,
And you're too nosy: shame on you!
You want to know it? Alright:
But my secret is mine, and I won't share.

Or maybe there’s nothing at all:
What if there really is no secret,
Just my own enjoyment?
Today’s a chilly day, a biting day; 10
A day when you want a shawl,
A veil, a cloak, and other layers:
I can’t open the door to everyone who knocks,
And let the cold air rush through my hall;
Come rushing and surrounding me,
Come pushing against me,
Nipping and tugging at my layers and all.
I wear my mask for warmth: who shows
Their nose to Russian snow
To get hit by every wind that blows? 20
You wouldn’t? I appreciate your good intentions,
But let’s keep that truth untested for now.

Spring is a wide-open season, but I don't trust
March with its dust,
Or April with its quick, colorful rain showers,
Or even May, whose blooms
One frost can ruin in the chilly hours.

Maybe on some lazy summer day,
When sleepy birds sing less and less,
And golden fruit is ripening too much,
If there's not too much sun or too many clouds,
And the warm breeze is neither calm nor loud,
Maybe I’ll share my secret,
Or you might figure it out.

If I could see another Spring
  I wouldn’t plant summer flowers and wait:
I’d want my crocuses right away,
My bare pink mezereons,
  My cold-veined snowdrops, even better
  My white or blue violets,
Leaf-nested primrose; anything
  To bloom right away, not later.

If I could see another Spring
  I'd listen to the morning birds 10
That build their nests, mate, and sing,
Not wait for the lonely nightingale;
  I'd hear the lively herds,
  The ewes with lambs as white as snow,
I'd discover music in the hail
  And all the winds that blow.

If I could see another Spring—
  Oh, what a sharp reminder of my past
That all my history boils down to 'if'—
  If I could see another Spring 20
I'd laugh today; today is short;
I wouldn't wait for anything:
  I'd make the most of today that can't stick around,
  Be happy today and sing.

Ring the bells loudly,
  Tinkle tinkle nicely;
Bring me wine, bring me flowers,
  Ring the silver bell.
All my lamps burn fragrant oil,
  Hanging on heavy orange trees,
Whose shaded leaves are the backdrop
  To golden lamps and oranges.
Fill my golden plates with fruit,
  Golden fruit, fresh-picked and ripe; 10
  Ring the bells and play the flute;
Keep out rain from summer days—
Silence that whining lute—
  Keep out thoughts, keep out pain,
  From moments that won’t come again.

Strike the bells softly,
  Ding dong deep:
My friend is passing to his rest,
  Fast asleep;
There's woven linen round his head, 20
  While his feet lead the way—
His feet that can no longer carry him.
My feast is for show, my lights are dim;
  Be still, your music isn’t sweet,—
There’s no more music for him:
  His lights are out, his feast is over;
His bowl that sparkled to the top
Is empty, is broken, cannot hold;
My blood runs cold, his blood is chill;
  His death is complete, and mine has started. 30

A blue-eyed ghost long ago
  Is laughing, jumping toward the sun:
Like lead, I’m always chasing it,
  I breathe hard and run.

It breaks the sunlight, bouncing along:
  Singing as it leaps forward
To the sound of sheep-bells, dreamy
  A dreamy tune.

I laugh, it's so lively and cheerful;
  It's so distant ahead, I cry: 10
I hope that one day I'll lie down,
  Lie down and rest.

I never said I loved you, John:
  Why do you keep teasing me every day,
And make me tired just thinking about
  All the 'do' and 'please'?

You know I never loved you, John;
  It’s not my fault that you’re heartbroken:
Why do you keep haunting me with a face as pale
  As a ghost that’s just been seen?

I bet Meg or Moll would feel bad for you if you asked. And please don’t stay single just for me, since I can’t help with that.

I have no heart?—Maybe I don’t;
  But then you’re crazy to be upset
That I can’t give you what I don’t have:
  Use your own common sense.

Let the past be the past:
  Don't accuse me of being untrue:
I'd rather say 'No' to fifty Johns
  Than say 'Yes' to you. 20

Let's not ruin our happy days anymore,
  Songbirds passing through, days of youth:
Embrace today, forget the days gone by:
  I'll overlook your little lies.

Let’s shake hands as true friends;
  No more, no less; and friendship’s great:
Just don’t have hidden agendas,
  And things that aren’t clear.

In open agreement. Rise above
  Arguments and going back and forth: 30
Here's friendship for you if you want it; but love,—
  No, thanks, John.

I can’t explain how it happened;
But this I know: it occurred
On a bright and breezy day
When May was just beginning; oh, lovely May!
The poppies hadn’t bloomed yet
Among the blades of soft corn;
The last eggs hadn’t hatched yet,
And no bird had left its mate.

I can’t explain what it was;
But I know this: it just went away. 10
It faded with sunny May,
Along with all the sweet things it took away,
And left me feeling old, cold, and gray.

I searched for what doesn’t exist, and can’t exist,
  And my heart grew sick with unfulfilled hope:
  But years have to go by before the hopes of youth
    Are completely given up.

I watched and waited with determination:
  And even though the thing I longed for seemed to slip away
  Every single day
    I kept watching and waiting.

Sometimes I said: This thing will be no more;
  My hopes tire me and will stop; 10
  I will let it go now and find peace:
    Yet I never truly gave it up.

Sometimes I said: It's just a meaningless name
  I long for; why should I give
  The peace of all the days I have left to live?—
    Yet I gave it all the same.

Alas, you foolish one! Just as unfit
  For healthy joy and helpful pain:
  You know the chase is useless, and yet again
    You turn to follow it. 20

Oh, pleasant evening!
    Clouds on the west
Get darker and darker, hiding the warm sun:
The bees and birds, their joyful work finished,
    Look for their cozy nests and wait.

Screened in the leafy woods
    The stock-doves sit and brood:
The squirrel jumps from branch to branch
But lazily; stops; and settles now
    Where he once stored his food. 10

One by one, the flowers close,
    Lily and dewy rose,
Shutting their soft petals from the moon:
The grasshoppers are quiet; but not as soon
    Are the noisy crows silent.

The dormouse sits and munches
    On tasty little bites
Under the wide roots of a big lime tree;
Pausing now and then to listen
    As he enjoys his meal. 20

From a distance, you can hear the lowing of cattle being herded home:
From even farther away, the wind occasionally carries
The endless, deep sound of the sea,
    Sometimes loud, sometimes almost silent.

The gnats swirl in the air,
    The evening gnats; and there
The owl opens wide his eyes and wings to glide
For prey; the bat stirs; and the naked snail
    Emerges, damp and exposed. 30

Listen! That’s the nightingale,
    Sharing the same story
Her song sang when this ancient world was new:
So echoes responded when her song was played
    In the first forested valley.

We call it love and pain
    The passion of her struggle;
And yet we know so little:
Why shouldn’t it be joy that
    Pulses in each pounding vein? 40

In separate groups the deer
    Rest; here the males, and here
The females, and next to its mother sleeps the fawn:
Through all the hours of night until dawn
    They rest, letting go of their fears.

The hare sleeps where it falls,
    With cautious half-closed eyes;
The rooster has stopped crowing, the hen stopped clucking:
Only the fox is out, some unsuspecting duck
    Or chicken to catch. 50

Remote, each single star
Comes out, until they’re all there
All shining brightly: how the dew falls damp!
While nearby, the glow-worm lights her lamp
Or twinkles from afar.

But evening is over now
Just like if the sun
Giving light had come up in the East:
For night has arrived; and the deep calm has ended,
The still sands have slipped away. 60

Forgive my flaws,
  For the love from years past:
    Goodbye.
I need to float across the ocean,
  I need to sink into the snow,
    I need to die.

You can soak up this sun,
  You can sip wine and munch:
    Goodbye.
I have to prepare myself and go,
  Even with unsteady feet:
    I have to face death.

Blank sea to sail on,
  Cold bed to sleep in:
    Good-bye.
While you hold on, I have to leave
  Despite all your crying:
    I must die.

A kiss for one friend,
  And a word for two,— 20
    Good-bye:—
A lock that you have to send,
  A kindness you need to do:
    I must die.

Not a word for you,
  Not a lock or kiss,
    Goodbye.
We, together, must split in two;
  Truly, this is death:
    I must die. 30

'A cup for hope!' she said,
In springtime before the bloom faded:
The crimson wine was cheap and cold
  Compared to her lips’ richer red.

'A cup for love!' how low,
How soft the words; and all the while
Her blush was rippling with a smile
  Like summer after snow.

'A cup for memory!'
A lonely cup that one has to finish solo: 10
While autumn winds are blowing and howling
  Across the empty sea.

Hope, memory, love:
Hope for a bright morning, and love for the day,
And memory for the evening gray
  And lonely dove.

The hope I dreamed of was just a dream,
  Was only a dream; and now I wake,
Feeling incredibly uncomfortable, worn out, and aged,
  All for the sake of a dream.

I hang my harp on a tree,
  A weeping willow by a lake;
I hang my silent harp there, worn and broken
  For the sake of a dream.

Lie still, lie still, my aching heart;
  My quiet heart, lie still and break: 10
Life, the world, and my own self have changed
  For the sake of a dream.

The door was closed. I looked through
  Its iron bars; and saw it there,
  My garden, mine, under the sky,
Filled with all flowers, fresh and green:

From branch to branch the songbirds flew,
  From bloom to bloom the moths and bees;
  With all its nests and majestic trees
It had been mine, and now it's gone.

A formless spirit stood by the gate,
  Empty and unchanging like the grave. 10
  I looked through and said: 'Please give me
Some buds to brighten my lonely state.'

He didn't answer. 'Then just give me,
  One small twig from a bush or tree;
  And tell my home to remember me
Until I come back to it.'

The spirit was quiet; but he took
  Mortar and stone to build a wall;
  He left no openings, big or small
Through which my eager eyes could look: 20

So now I sit here all alone
  Blinded by tears; and I don’t mourn for that,
  Because there's nothing left worth seeing
Since my beautiful home is gone.

A violet bed is blooming nearby,
  Where a lark has built her nest:
  And they’re nice, but not the nicest;
And they’re valuable, but not the most valuable.

Some are laughing, some are crying;
She is sleeping, just sleeping.
Around her, wildflowers are creeping;
There the wind is piling, piling
The sweetest treasures of summer's keeping.
By the cornfields ready for harvesting.

There are lilies, and there are blushes
The deep rose, and there are thrushes
Singing until the last rays of sunlight fade
In the west; a cool breeze sweeps 10
Through the leaves while evening settles down.

There by day the lark is singing
And the grass and weeds are growing;
There by night the bat is flying;
There forever winds are blowing
Far-off sounds of church bells ringing.

Night and morning, noon and evening,
Their sound fills her dreams with Heaven:
The long struggle during Lent is fought:
Until her grave bands are torn apart 20
Such is the good portion given
To her soul at peace and forgiven.

She sat and sang all the time
  By the green edge of a stream,
Watching the fish jump and play
  Beneath the happy sunlight.

I sat and cried all the time
  Beneath the moon's darkest light,
Watching the May flowers
  Drop their leaves into the stream.

I cried for memories;
  She sang for a hope that's so beautiful: 10
My tears were lost in the ocean;
  Her songs faded into the air.

When I'm gone, my dearest,
  Don't sing any sad songs for me;
Don't plant any roses at my head,
  Or a shady cypress tree:
Let the green grass grow over me
  With rain and dewdrops on it;
And if you want, remember,
  And if you want, forget.

I won’t see the shadows,
  I won’t feel the rain; 10
I won’t hear the nightingale
  Singing as if in pain:
And dreaming through the twilight
  That neither rises nor sets,
Maybe I’ll remember,
  And maybe I’ll forget.

Sonnet

Ah! changed and cold, how changed and very cold,
  With stiff smiling lips and cold calm eyes:
  Changed, yet the same; much knowing, little wise;
This was the promise of the days of old!
Grown hard and stubborn in the ancient mold,
  Grown rigid in the facade of lifelong lies:
  We hoped for better things as the years went by,
But it is over like a story long told.
All fallen the blossom that never bore fruit,
  All lost the present and the future time,
All lost, all lost, the past that went before:
So lost until death shuts the opened door,
  So lost from chime to everlasting chime,
So cold and lost forevermore.

Summer is gone with all its roses,
  Its sun and scents and sweet blooms,
  Its warm air and refreshing rain:
    And even Fall is coming to an end.

Yeah, Autumn's chilly self is leaving,
  And winter is coming, which is even colder;
  Each day the frost gets bolder,
    And the last buds stop blooming.

Who told my mom about my shame,
  Who told my dad about my fear?
Oh who but Maude, my sister Maude,
  Who hid to watch and leer.

He lies cold, as cold as stone,
  With tangled hair around his face:
The most handsome corpse in the world
  And deserving of a queen's embrace.

You could have saved his soul, sister,
  Saved my soul, and your own too: 10
Even if I had never been born at all,
  He wouldn't have looked at you.

My dad might rest in Paradise,
  My mom at Heaven's gate:
But my sister Maude won't get any sleep
  Either early or late.

My dad might wear a golden robe,
  My mom might win a crown;
If my love and I knocked on Heaven's gate,
  Maybe they’d let us in: 20
But sister Maude, oh sister Maude,
  Stay you with death and sin.

Sonnet

O Earth, weigh down on her eyes;
  Close her sweet eyes that are tired from watching, Earth;
  Wrap around her; leave no space for joy
With its loud laughter, nor for the sound of sighs.
She has no questions, she has no answers,
  Quieted and surrounded by a blessed lack
  Of everything that bothered her since birth;
With stillness that feels almost like Paradise.
Darkness clearer than noon holds her,
  Silence more melodic than any song;
Even her heart has stopped moving:
Until the morning of Eternity
Her rest won't begin or end, but just be;
  And when she wakes, she won’t think it was long.

I wonder if the sap is starting to flow yet,
If winter birds are dreaming of a partner,
If frozen snowdrops are feeling the sun yet
And crocus flowers are lighting up one by one:
    Sing, robin, sing;
I'm still hesitant about Spring.

I wonder if this year's spring tide
Will bring another spring that’s both lost and treasured;
If my heart and spirit will discover their own spring,
Or if only the world will bloom and sing: 10
    Sing, hope, to me;
Sweet sounds, my hope, gentle sounds for remembrance.

The sap will definitely start to flow sooner or later,
The slowest bird will chirp to find a mate;
So Spring will have to arrive again with warmth and flowers,
Either in this life or in the next:
    Sing, voice of Spring,
Until I too bloom and celebrate and sing.

There's blood between us, love, my love,
There's blood from my father, there's blood from my brother;
And blood is a barrier I can't cross:
I choose the stairs that lead above,
Step after golden skyward step,
To the city and to a sea of glass.
My delicate feet are soiled with mud,
With scarlet mud that tells a story
Of hope that once was, of guilt that once was,
Of love that isn't ready yet; 10
Alas, my heart, if I could expose
My heart, that same stain is there:
I seek the sea of glass and fire
To cleanse the mark, to burn the trap;
Look, stairs are meant to lift us higher:
Climb with me, climb the kindled stair.

Your eyes look down, mine look up.
I see the distant city so grand,
Beyond the hills, a lush land,
Beyond the gulf, a shining shore 20
Of mansions where the righteous eat;
Who rest easy among their trees,
Or wake to sing a rhythmic hymn
With Cherubim and Seraphim;
They bore the Cross, they drained the cup,
Suffered, burned, crushed, torn apart,
They the outcasts of the world:
The heaven of starry heavens spread out,
The sun before their face is dim.

You looking down at the ground, what do you see? 30
Milk-white wine sparkling among the vines,
Jumping up and down, side to side,
Most cheerful, most filled, strengthened by wine,
Blooming like peaches glistening with dew,
Their golden hair blowing in the breeze,
Love songs singing in their voices,
Young men and women coming and going.

You hang around, but time is running out:
Run for your life, gather your strength
To escape; the shadows are growing long 40
Show that day is ending, that night is coming;
Run to the mountain, don’t hesitate.
Is this a time for smiles and sighs,
For songs among the hidden trees
Where sudden bluebirds nest and play?
Time is short and yet you linger:
Today, while it’s still called today,
Kneel, struggle, knock, fight, pray;
Today is brief, tomorrow is near:
Why will you perish? why will you perish? 50

You shared a nice sin with me:
Repent with me, because I regret it.
Oh, the lessons I need to forget!
Oh, the easy path we took,
So tough when I want to go back!
How long until I can finally rest,
How long will these nights and days drag on?
Surely, pure Angels cry, she prays;
She cleanses her soul with endless tears:
How long must these years go on and on? 60

I turn my cheeks and eyes away from you,
My hair that you’ll see no longer—
Oh, how I miss the happiness that was,
For joy that fades, for love that fades.
Only my lips still face you,
My pale lips that cry, Repent.
Oh, tired life, oh, tired Lent,
Oh, tired time with few stars.

How should I relax in Paradise,
Or sit on the steps of heaven all alone? 70
If Saints and Angels talk about love,
Shouldn't I respond from my throne:
Have mercy on me, my friends,
For I've heard that sound:
Should I not look back with longing eyes,
Gaze down to earth with a heavy heart?
Oh save me from suffering in heaven.
By all the gifts we shared and received,
Repent, repent, and find forgiveness:
This life is long, but it eventually ends; 80
Repent and cleanse your soul to be saved:
No happier song the morning stars
Sang on their birthday morning
Than the songs Angels sing when someone repents.

I’ll tell you about my dream last night:
A spirit with a changed face
Climbed an endless space on fire-footed wings.
I heard his hundred wings clang,
Heavenly bells ringing and ringing,
The air in heaven was filled with subtle scents, 90
Worlds spun on their fast-moving paths:
He rose, crying, 'Give me light.'
Light kept pouring on him, more light;
He outpaced angels, archangels
Celebrating in incredible strength,
And walked near the Cherubim.
Still 'Give me light,' he shouted, and dipped
His thirsty face to drink a sea,
A thirst that could never be satisfied.
I saw him, drunk with knowledge, take 100
The golden crown from his aching brows—
His hair twisted like a split snake—
He left his throne to crawl down
And lick the dust off the Seraphs' feet:
For what is knowledge when it's truly considered?
Knowledge is powerful, but love is sweet;
Indeed, all the progress he made
Was just to realize that everything is small
Except for love, because love is everything.

I’ll share my dream from last night: 110
It wasn’t dark, it wasn’t light,
Cold dew had soaked my thick hair
As you came to find me there.
And you asked, ‘Do you dream of me?’
My heart was like dust that used to leap
For you; I replied half asleep:
‘My pillow is wet, my sheets are red,
There’s a heavy canopy over my bed:
Find yourself a warmer playmate,
A cozier pillow for your head, 120
A kinder love to care for than mine.’
You wrung your hands; while I, like lead,
Sank down through the soggy earth:
You clapped your hands but not in joy,
And staggered but weren’t drunk with wine.

For the whole night, I dreamed about you:
I woke up and prayed, even though I didn't want to,
Then fell asleep to dream of you again.
Eventually, I got up and knelt to pray:
I can't express the words I said, 130
My words were slow, my tears were few;
But in the darkness, my silence spoke
Like thunder. When morning came,
My face was haggard, my hair was grey,
And blood was frozen on the windowsill
Where I struggled and stifled.

If you saw me now, you’d say:
Where’s the face I used to love?
And I would reply: It's gone;
It lingers hidden in paradise. 140
When the morning star rises,
When the earth's shadows fade away
And we stand safe at the door,
Then you’ll lift the veil.
Look up, rise up: for far above
Our hands have grown, our place is ready;
There we’ll meet as we once did
And love with the same familiar love.

Does the road go uphill all the way?
  Yes, to the very end.
Will the day's journey take the entire day?
  From morning to night, my friend.

But is there a place to rest for the night?
  A roof for when the slow dark hours start.
Could the darkness keep it out of my sight?
  You won’t miss that inn.

Shall I meet other travelers at night?
  Those who have come before. 10
Then should I knock, or call when I'm in sight?
  They won't make you wait at that door.

Shall I find comfort, tired and weak from my travels?
  From work, you will see the answers.
Will there be beds for me and everyone who searches?
  Yes, beds for all who arrive.

I put up with you for long, exhausting days and nights,
  Through many heartaches and countless tears;
I dealt with your bitterness, your indifference, your neglect,
    For thirty-three years.

Who else has taken the risks for you that I have?
  I sank to the deepest depths from heights of joy;
I held nothing back—neither my body nor my spirit:
    Give me love in return for my love.

For you I thirsted in the daily heat,
  For you I trembled in the nightly cold: 10
Much sweeter you are than honey to my lips:
    Why will you still be lost?

I carried you on My shoulders and was joyful:
  People only noticed the mark on My shoulders
The cross that branded Me; they shouted with hungry voices,
    Or shook their heads in disdain.

You drove nails into My hands, your name
  Was stamped with thorns upon My forehead:
I, the Holy One, took on your guilt and shame;
    I, God, Priest, Sacrifice. 20

A thief on My right and My left;
  Six hours alone, thirsty and in pain:
Finally, in death, one struck My heart and made
    A hiding place for you.

Nailed to the racking cross, then to a soft bed
  More precious, where I can lie down and sleep:
That’s how I gained a kingdom—share my crown;
    A harvest—come and collect.

I will accept your will to do and be,
  Your hatred and intolerance of sin,
  Your will at least to love, that burns within
    And thirsts after Me:
So I will make fruitful, blessing still,
  The seeds and small beginnings in your heart,
  Because your will clings to the better part.—
    Alas, I cannot will.

Do you not want, poor soul? Yet I receive
  The hidden, unspoken desires of the soul, 10
  I guide them to turn towards Me; I influence
    And captivate hearts until they sorrow:
If you desire, it will still happen,
  Even if you just truly want to choose My love;
  For I have power on earth and in heaven above.—
    I cannot wish, unfortunately!

What, neither choose nor want to choose? and yet
  I still have to try to win you and hold on:
  For you I suffered on the cross in pain,
    How can I then forget? 20
If you still neither love nor hate,
  Nor choose, nor want,—just let it be, be still
  Until I fill you with love, hatred, longing, will.—
    I do not dismiss.

I have no cleverness, no words, no tears;
  My heart feels heavy like a stone
Is too dulled for hopes or fears.
  Look right, look left, I’m all alone;
I lift my eyes, but clouded with grief
  I see no eternal hills;
My life is like a falling leaf:
  O Jesus, bring me to life again.

My life is like a worn-out leaf,
  My harvest reduced to nothing; 10
Honestly, my life feels empty and short
  And boring in the empty twilight;
My life is like something frozen,
  No growth or freshness in sight:
But it will rise again—the life of Spring;
  O Jesus, rise within me.

My life is like a broken bowl,
  A broken bowl that can't hold
One drop of water for my soul
  Or comfort in the searching cold 20
Throw the damaged thing in the fire,
  Melt it down and reshape it, until it becomes
A royal cup for Him, my King:
  O Jesus, drink from me.

This Advent moon shines cold and bright,
  These Advent nights are lengthy;
Our lamps have burned year after year
  And still their flame is steady.
'Watchman, what about the night?' we ask,
  Heartbroken with hope postponed:
'No signs in the sky,'
  Is still the watchman's reply.

The doorman stands guard at the gate,
  The staff keeps an eye inside; 10
The wait goes on, both early and late,
  The reward takes time to arrive.
'Watchman, what's the news of the night?' But still
  His answer stays the same:
'No dawn breaks over the highest hill,
  Nor do our flames flicker and wane.'

One to another, hear them talk
  The patient, wise young women:
'Surely He isn’t hard to find'—
  'All night we watch and wait.' 20
'The past days are dark,
  The future days are unclear;
Yet we don’t consider His promise slow,
  But watch and wait for Him.'

One with another, soul to soul,
  They spark fire from fire:
'Friends watch us as we reach the finish line.'
  'They encourage us to rise higher.'
'With them our tired feet will rest,
  With them we build our home, 30
With Christ.'—'They are sweet, but He is the sweetest,
  Sweeter than honeycomb.'

There’s no more separation, no more suffering,
  The faraway are brought close,
The ones we lost for so long are found again,
  Long lost but even more cherished:
No eye has seen, no ear has heard,
  And no heart can imagine that peace,
With them our good things we’ve waited for,
  With Jesus Christ, our greatest. 40

We cry because the night feels endless,
  We laugh knowing the day will come,
We sing a gentle, peaceful song
  And reach for Paradise.
While crying, we cling to Him who cried
  For us, we hold Him tight;
And won’t let Him go unless
  He blesses us, first or last.

We’re holding on to Him tonight;
  We won’t let Him go 50
Until daybreak blinds our tired eyes
  And summer melts the snow:
Then figs will blossom, and doves will coo
  All day long;
Then He will say, 'Get up, My love,
  My beautiful one, come away.'

'Sweet, you look pale.'
                        'More pale to see,
Christ hung on the cruel tree
And bore His Father's wrath for me.'

'Sweet, you're sad.'
                       'Under a burden
Heavier, for my sake Christ endured
The winepress of God's wrath.'

'Sweet, you are tired.'
                         'Not at all, Christ:
Whose great love for me is enough
For Strength, Salvation, Eucharist.'

'Sweet, you’re sore from walking.'
                            'If I bleed, 10
His feet have bled; yes, in my need,
His Heart once bled for mine, indeed.'

'Sweet, you are young.'
                         'So He was young
Who for my sake hung in silence
On the Cross with Passion wrung.'

'Look, you are beautiful.'
                       'He was more beautiful
Than any man, Who chose for me to bear
A face disfigured beyond compare.'

'And you have wealth.'
                        'Daily bread:
Everything else belongs to Him: Who, living or dead, 20
For me had nowhere to lay His Head.'

'And life is sweet.'
                     'It wasn't the same
For Him, Whose Cup was full
With my unexpressed sorrow.'

'You drink deeply.'
                      'When Christ would dine
He emptied the last drops from my cup:
So how can I be uplifted?'

'You shall win glory.'
                        'In the skies,
Lord Jesus, cover my eyes
So they won’t see vanities.' 30

'You shall have Knowledge.'
                             'Helpless dust!
In You, O Lord, I put my trust:
Answer for me, Wise and Just.'

'And Might.'—
                'Get behind me. Lord,
Who has redeemed and not rejected
My soul, oh keep it by Your Word.'

Poem

Vanity of vanities, the Preacher says,
  Everything is pointless. The eye and ear
  Can never be satisfied with what they see and hear.
Like the morning dew, or a sudden gust
Of wind, or the grass that withers,
  Is humanity, tossed around by hope and fear:
  So little joy do they have, so little cheer,
Until everything ends in the long dust of death.
Today is still the same as yesterday,
  Tomorrow will be just like one of them;
And there is nothing new under the sun:
Until the ancient race of Time is finished,
  The old thorns will continue to grow from the old stem,
And morning will be cold and twilight grey.

'Oh, what a joyful land!
Angels stand like reeds
  Around the wells of light.'—
  'Unfortunately, I can't see this beautiful sight:
Hold my hand tightly.'—

'Like a gentle breeze, they
All lean in the same beautiful direction,
  Each shining in their own brilliance, star beside star.'—
  'I can't see that far,
  Here there are only shadows.'— 10

'White-winged the cherubim,
Yet whiter seraphim,
  Glow white with intense fire of love.'—
'My eyes are dim:
  I look in vain above,
And miss their hymn.'—

'Angels and Archangels call out to each other nonstop
  (I hear them sing)
  One saying "Holy, Holy, Holy" to their King.'— 20
'I don't hear them, I.'—

'On one side, Paradise
  Is separated from the rest,
Made green for tired eyes;
  Much softer than the chest
Of a mother dove dressed in a rainbow's colors.

'All precious souls are there
  Most safe, chosen by grace,
  All tears are wiped away forever from their face:
Endlessly in prayer 30
  They wait and praise
  Hidden for just a little while.

'Boughs of the Living Vine
They spread in summer light
  Green leaf with leaf:
Sap of the Royal Vine it stirs like wine
  In all both less and chief.

'Sing to the Lord,
  All beings of all creation, sing;
For He has not rejected 40
  Our humble state nor dismissed our offering:
  Shout to our King.'—

'But Zion said:
  My Lord forgets me.
Look, she has made her bed
  In dust; forsaken, she weeps
  Where foreign rivers swell the sea.

'She laid her body like the ground,
  Her tender body as the ground for those
Who passed; her harp strings can't play 50
In a strange land; stripped of her crown
  She sits, lost in her sorrows.'—

'O drunken not with wine,
  Whose sins and sorrows have reached their peak,—
  Don’t be afraid, get up, speak up;
Get up, shine,
  For your light has come.'—

'Can these bones come back to life?'—
                           'Only God knows:
  The prophet saw them covered with flesh and skin;
  A breeze blew over them, and life filled them; 60
They trembled and stood up.
  Hurry the time, O Lord, erase their sins,
  Let life start.'

The sweetest flowers fade away.
  And so it was that, day by day
  I went to church to worship and pray,
And while I crossed the green graveyard with a thoughtful mind,
  I noticed how the flowers on the graves
  Dropped their fresh petals like rain,
And how their fragrance ascended to the sky
  Before it disappeared.

The youngest flowers fade away.
  They wither, drop, and enrich the fertile soil 10
  From which they just emerged;
Sweet life, but even sweeter is the death that comes and goes
  As if it never existed:—
  All colors turn to green:
The vibrant shades disappear, and the scents disperse,
  The grass holds enduring value.

And youth and beauty fade away.
  So be it, O my God, God of truth:
  Better than looks and youth
Are Saints and Angels, a joyful group; 20
  And You, O Lord, our Rest and Comfort,
  Are far better than these.
Why should we hold back from our full rewards? Why
  Choose to gather with Ruth?

I watched a rosebud for a long time
  Nourished by dew, sun, and rain,
  Waiting to see the perfect bloom:
Then, just when I thought it would be strong,
  It opened in the morning light
And withered by evening.

I observed a nest every day,
  A green nest offering nice shade,
  With three speckled eggs inside:
But when they were supposed to hatch in May,
  The two adult birds became scared
Or exhausted, and flew away.

Then in my anger, I snapped the branch
  That I had nurtured so carefully,
  Hoping its fragrance would fill the air;
I smashed the eggs, ignoring how
  Their ancient promise had been beautiful:
I wanted revenge now.

But the dead branch spoke from the ground,
  And the eggs answered me again: 20
  Are you complaining because we failed?
Is your anger justified? And what if God,
  Who waits for your fruits in vain,
Should also punish you?

Flowers speak to us if we're willing to listen:—
The rose says in the dewy morning:
I am beautiful;
Yet all my beauty comes
From a thorn.
The poppy says among the corn:
As long as my scarlet head shows up
I am looked down upon;
Yet there's a juice of subtle magic
Inside my cup of strange colors. 10
The lilies say: Look at how we
Convey messages of purity without words.
The violets whisper from the shade
That their own leaves have created:
People catch our scent in the air,
Yet pay no attention
To the humble lessons we want to share.
But not only the most beautiful flowers:
Even the simplest grass
Along the roadside where we walk, 20
Lichen and moss and tough weeds,
Speak of His love who sends the dew,
The rain and sunshine too,
To nourish just one tiny seed.

Sonnet

By day she charms me, gentle and incredibly beautiful:
  But all night, like the changing moon, she becomes;
  Disgusting and ugly, covered in terrible sores
And sneaky snakes sliding through her hair.
By day she invites me outside,
  With ripe fruits, sweet flowers, and complete satisfaction:
  But through the night, a beast grins at me,
A true monster devoid of love and prayer.
By day she’s a deception: by night she stands
  In all the raw horror of reality
With pushing horns and clawed, grasping hands.
Is she really a friend; that I should trade
  My soul to her, give her my life and youth,
Until my feet, too, become cloven and lead me to hell?

I said laughter is pointless.
  I questioned the value of joy.
  So I found a book and wrote
About how both comfort and suffering,
How wellness and illness, all of it
Is just emptiness under the sun.

Man walks in a pointless shadow; he
  Worries himself for no reason.
  What happened before will happen again;
The rivers don’t fill the sea, 10
But return to their hidden source;
The winds also follow their path.

Our treasures decay and get ruined,
  Or thieves break in and steal, or they
  Spirit themselves away.
One man enjoyed himself at dinner,
Not knowing how when that night turned dark,
His life would be demanded of him.

We build our homes on the sand
  Attractive inside and out; 20
  But when the winds and rains start
To pound on them, they can't hold up;
They fall apart, quickly toppled,
Loosed from the very foundation stone.

All things are pointless, I said:
  Yes, pointless of pointlessness.
  The rich man dies, and the poor man dies:
The worm enjoys feeding on the dead.
Whatever you lack, hold on to this truth:
In the end, we all return to dust. 30

The one inheritance that both
  The good and the bad will find and share:
  The wicked stop their troubling there,
And the tired can finally rest;
There, all the wisdom of the wise
Is just meaningless nonsense.

Man thrives like a green leaf,
  And just like a leaf, he fades away;
  Or like a shadow that can't remain,
And leaves no mark, his time is short: 40
Yet man continues to hope, fear, and plan
Until he dies:—oh, foolish man!

Our eyes can never get enough
  Of seeing, nor can our ears be filled
  With hearing: still, we plant and build
And buy and expand our territories;
We accumulate wealth, we take on worries,
But we have no idea who will inherit it all.

Why should we rush to get up
So early, and stay up late? 50
  Our work isn’t worthwhile; our best
Hopes diminish; our hearts are stuck on falsehoods:
Honestly, we’re planting the wind; and we
Will reap the whirlwind, honestly.

He who has little won't be in need;
  He who has plenty will fade away:
  Our parents are gone; we will pass too;
Our children will follow our path:
So generations end, and so
They are replaced, and come and go. 60

The earth is filled with our dead;
  It keeps taking more and doesn't stop:
  So her wine and oil keep growing
And her harvests are countless;
So her plants are lush, and all
Her beautiful trees are strong and tall.

Therefore the girls stop singing,
  And the young men are really sad;
  So the sowing isn't joyful,
And the harvesting is mournful. 70
For high and low, for great and small,
Vanity is the fate of all.

A king lived in Jerusalem;
  He was the smartest person on the planet;
  He had all the wealth since he was born,
And enjoyed pleasures until he got bored with them;
Then, after trying everything, he
Realized that it's all meaningless.

Sound the deep waters:—
  Who will explore that depth?—
The measuring line is too short,
  And the guards are asleep.
Some dream of striving
  Up a difficult slope;
Some dream of pastures
  For gentle sheep.

White shapes dart back and forth
  From mast to mast; 10
They sense the distant storm
  That's coming fast:
Big rocks are straight ahead,
  Big shoals not far;
They call out to each other
  In the wind.

Oh, softly the streams make music
  Between the hills,
And the birds' nests are melodious
  Beside those streams: 20
The nests symbolize home
  Love-protected from harm,
The nests embody spirits
  Filled with love's music.

So dream the sleepers,
  Each person in their spot;
The lightning reveals the smile
  On every face:
The ship is moving, moving,
  It goes quickly:
And sleepers smile, and spirits
  Mourn their fate.

The lightning flashes and turns red
  Across the sky;
It looks like sunset
  To those who are asleep.
When did the sun set
  On such wisdom?
From such a sunset
  When will day break? 40

'Wake,' call the spirits:
  But to unresponsive ears:
They have forgotten sorrows
  And hopes and fears;
They have forgotten dangers
  And smiles and tears;
Their dreams have held them for a long time,
  For many years.

'Wake,' the spirits call again:
  But it would take 50
A louder shout
  To bring them to life.
Some dream of pleasure
  For someone else's sake;
Some dream, unaware
  Of a lifelong pain.

One by one, slowly,
  Ah, how sad and slow!
Wailing and praying
  The spirits rise and go: 60
Clear, pure spirits
  White as white as snow;
Pale spirits, wailing
  For a downfall.

One by one drifting,
  Like a sad bird
Whose song is finally exhausted
  For no partner is found.
The affectionate voice is quiet,
  The pointless word; 70
One by one drifting
  Sick with delayed hope.

Driving and driving,
  The ship pushes forward fast:
While quickly from mast to mast
  Shapes dart past,
Darting silently like the silence
  Where men have fallen;
Their shadows cast upon the sails
  Are like a mark. 80

No voice to wake the sleepers,
  No hand to lift:
They sleep forever in their dreams,
  Of endless days.
Everything is meaningless,
  The Preacher says:
Meaninglessness is the result
  Of all their ways.

The first felt like a dream in the summer heat,
  The second was a slow, numbing daze,
While the half-frozen pulses dragged to beat
  Beneath a winter moon.

'But,' says my friend, 'what was this thing and where?'
  It was a place of joy inside my soul;
An earthly paradise, incredibly beautiful
  That tempted me away from my goal.

The first part was a web of comforting lies;
  The second was its destruction filled with pain: 10
Why elevate the beautiful illusion to the heavens
  Only to be shattered again?

My castle was made of clear white glass
  Shiny and delicate with many intricate spires,
But when the summer sunset arrived
  It lit up like fire.

My pleasure was a rolling green,
  Majestic with trees casting shadows below,
With peeks of tidy garden beds in between
  Like fire, the sky, or snow. 20

Swift squirrels in the fields relaxed,
  With jumping lambs safe from the feared knife;
All singing birds celebrating in those trees
  Lived their carefree lives.

Woodpigeons cooed over there, stock doves nested here;
  My trees were full of songs, flowers, and fruit,
Their branches stretched a city into the air
  And mice made their homes in the roots.

My health was somewhere far away, where lizards lived
  In strange shiny armor, seen for a moment and then gone; 30
Like flashes of lightning seen here and there
  But never staying in one place.

Frogs and chunky toads were there to hop or lumber
  And breed in peace, a clumsy bunch,
Where soft-headed reeds rustling sway
  And shed the morning dew.

All caterpillars thrived under my control,
  With snails and slugs hidden in the shadows;
I never spoiled the strange sudden stool
  That completes itself in a night. 40

Safe in his dugout gallery
  The digging mole felt his way from year to year;
No harmless hedgehog curled up because of me
  His spiky back out of fear.

Often, someone like an angel walked with me,
  With eyes that could see spirits like flames of fire,
But as deep as the bottomless, endless sea,
  Fulfilling my desire:

And sometimes he was beautiful like a snowdrift,
  And sometimes like a brilliant red sunset,
And sometimes he had wings to soar through the air
  With a halo around his head.

We sang our songs together along the way,
  Calls and memories and echoes of joy;
So we connected all day,
  And continued in dreams at night.

I can't describe the path we took.
  What unforgettable path is now shut and locked;
I can't express all the things we discussed,
  All the things he shared: 60

This is all I can say: that hour by hour
  I became happier, uplifted and joyful;
I didn’t feel a sting when I picked a flower,
  Didn’t notice my friend was sad.

'Tomorrow,' I once said to him with a smile:
  'Tonight,' he replied seriously and was quiet,
But he indicated the stones that marked miles
  And miles ahead.

'Not at all,' I said: 'tomorrow will be sweet;
  Tonight isn't as sweet as the days to come.' 70
It was then I noticed that he had turned his feet,
  Had turned his face away from me:

Running and flying for miles and miles he went,
  But once looked back to wave his hand
And shout: 'Come home, oh love, from exile:
  Come to the faraway land.'

That night crushed me like an avalanche;
  One night turned my whole summer back to snow:
The next morning, not a single bird on my branch,
  Not a lamb stirred below,— 80

No bird, no lamb, no living, breathing thing;
  No squirrel scurrying on my breezy lawn,
No mouse settled by its stash: all joys flew away
  And disappeared before that dawn.

The sky was a harsh blue, and the sun was drained from above,
  There was no dew, just a biting frost all around:
Oh love, I knew I would meet my love,
  But I would find my love no longer.

'My love is gone,' I whispered, shocked with pain:
  I didn’t shed a tear, I didn’t wring my hands, 90
Until something whispered: 'You will meet again,
  Meet in a distant place.'

Then, with a cry like starvation, I got up,
  I lit my candle and looked from room to room,
Searching high and low; a battle of freezing winds
  Swept through the empty darkness.

I searched day after day, night after night;
  There was hardly any change for me, day or night:
'No more,' I cried, 'no more:' and adjusted my light,
  And gritted my teeth but didn’t pray, 100

Until my heart shattered and my spirit collapsed:
  On the frozen ground I tripped, fell,
And groaned: 'That's enough: spare me the blow.
  Goodbye, oh love, goodbye.'

Then life faded away from me. And I heard the song
  Of spheres and spirits celebrating over me:
One exclaimed: 'Our sister, she has endured for so long.'—
  Another responded: 'Help her understand.'—

One cried: 'Oh blessed is she who feels no more pain,
  Who will receive no more disappointment.'— 110
One replied: 'Not so: she has to live again;
  Grant her the strength to keep on living.'

So while I lay spellbound, a curtain appeared
  To shrink with crackling right in front of me;
A growing light shone
  And revealed a certain place.

I saw a vision of a woman, where
  Night and new morning compete for control;
Incredibly pale, and nearly beautiful,
  And sad beyond words. 120

Her eyes were like a gem that holds fire,
  Majestic like the stars, yet so gentle;
Her figure captivated me like a swaying stem
  Unsteady, delicate, and slender.

I stood on the harsh outer ground,
  She stood on the inner ground where flowers bloomed;
While circling in their endless round
  Danced by the magical hours.

But every flower was raised on a thorn,
  And every thorn stood tall from its sand 130
To sting her feet; harsh laughter rang out mockingly
  With cruel, clapping hands.

She bled and cried, but didn’t back down; her strength
  Was stretched until dawn of joy:
She measured endless sorrow in all its
  Length, width, depth, and height.

Then I noticed how a chain supported her shape,
  A chain of living links, unbroken and whole:
It reached straight up through lightning, wind, and storm,
  And was anchored firmly in heaven. 140

One cried: 'How long? Yet built on the Rock
  She will fight, endure, and succeed.'—
One replied: 'Faith wavers in the storm's impact:
  Reinforce her spirit once more.'

I saw a cup lowered down and handed to her
  Filled to the top with hate and resentment:
She drank with pale lips that seemed to disturb
  The darkness, not lessen it.

But as she drank, I saw a hand pouring
  New wine and fresh honey; making it 150
First bitter-sweet, then undeniably sweet, until
  She tasted only sweetness.

Her lips and cheeks turned rosy-fresh and youthful;
  As she drank, she sang: 'My soul will lack nothing;'
And drank again: while softly a song was sung,
  A mystical slow chant.

One cried: 'The wounds are a sign of a friend:
  The wilderness will bloom like a rose.'—
One replied: 'Tear the veil, announce the end,
  Strengthen her before she leaves.' 160

Then earth and heaven were rolled up like a scroll;
  Time and space, change and death, were gone;
Weight, number, measure, each had reached its total;
  The day had arrived, that day.

Multitudes—multitudes—stood up in joy,
  Made equal to the angels, radiant, beautiful;
With harps, palms, wedding clothes, kiss of peace
  And crowned and haloed hair.

They sang a song, a new song on high,
  Playing their harps to Him Who is Strong and True: 170
They drank new wine, their eyes saw with fresh light,
  Look, everything was made new.

Layer upon layer, they climbed higher and higher,
So high it was terrifying, flames with flames:
No one could count them, no voice reveal
  Their secret sacred names.

As if one heartbeat moved everyone, one wave of energy
  Sustained all, one breath flowed through them with many voices,
They played their harps, laid down their crowns, they stood
  And worshipped and celebrated. 180

Each face turned one way like a newly lit moon,
  Each face turned one way toward its Sun of Love;
Sipped love and soaked in love and reflected it
  And knew no end to it.

Glory touched glory on each blessed head,
  Hands locked tight, never to part again:
These were the newly reborn from the dead
  Whom the great birthday brought forth.

Heart answered heart, soul answered soul at peace,
  Doubled against each other, filled, satisfied: 190
All loving, loved by all; but loving the most
  And most beloved of Christ.

I saw the one who lost her love in pain,
  Who walked on thorns, who drank the bitter cup;
The lost in darkness, in daylight was found again;
  The fallen was lifted up.

They stood together in the blessed noon,
  They sang together throughout the days;
Each loving face turned towards the sun
  Newly lit with love and praise. 200

Therefore, my friend, I wouldn't even if I could
  Rebuild my house of lies, where I once found joy:
My soul will walk in white,
  Humbled but not defeated.

So I hold my soul with patience;
  And like a rock, I stand firm,
To tear down and then rebuild everything—
  But in a faraway place.

These thorns are sharp, but I can walk on them;
  This cup is disgusting, but He makes it sweet: 210
My face is set towards Jerusalem,
  My heart remembers it.

I lift the hanging hands and the weak knees—
  I, worth more than seven times melted gold—
Until the day when God will bring from his storehouses
  Both new and old;

Beauty for ashes, joy instead of grief,
  A garment of praise to replace a heavy spirit:
Although today I wither like a leaf,
  I weaken and fade away. 220

Although today He trims my branches with pain,
  Yet His blood nourishes and warms my roots:
Tomorrow I will sprout buds again
  And cover myself with fruit.

Although today I walk in boring paths,
  Today His staff has become a rod,
Yet I will wait for Him through the set days
  And rely on my God.

1

New Year found me feeling a bit down:
  Old Year leaves me worn out,
Deprived of the things I loved
  And turned away from what I longed for:
But further along my path today
God willing, I'll keep moving ahead.

New Year is coming fast
  What do you have for me?
Bring me trouble, or bring me kindness,
Look me in the eyes honestly; 10
  You won’t fool me:
Whether it’s good or bad, whatever it is,
It will help me on my journey,
My tough path to heaven, if God wills.

2

Watch with me, everyone—men, women, and kids I love,
You for whom I hope and worry,
Join me in this final watch of the year.
Some cling to their work, some to their plans for fun;
Others take this free time to sleep or daydream;
With hearts joined, some kneel and keep their watch alone.

Watch with me, blessed spirits, who enjoy
All through the holy night walking in white,
Or take it easy after the long fight.
I don't know if they’re watching with me: I know 10
They find this night of resurrection slow,
And cry, 'How long?' with strong, urgent voices.

Watch with me, Jesus, in my loneliness:
Though others say no, still say yes;
Though others pass me by, stop to bless me.
Yes, You stay with me this vigil night;
Tonight of pain, tomorrow of delight:
I, Love, am Yours; You, Lord my God, are mine.

3

Passing away, says the World, passing away:
Opportunities, beauty, and youth fade day by day:
Your life never stays the same.
Has your vision grown dim, is your dark hair turning grey
That has won neither a laurel nor a bay?
I will dress myself in Spring and bloom in May:
You, rooted and wilting, will not rebuild your decay
On my chest forever.
Then I answered: Yes.

Passing away, my Soul says, passing away: 10
With its weight of fear and hope, of work and play;
Listen to what the past bears witness and shares:
Rust in your gold, a moth is in your attire,
A canker is in your bud, your leaf must fade away.
At midnight, at dawn, one certain day
Look, the Bridegroom will come and won’t be late:
Stay alert and pray.
Then I answered: Yes.

Passing away, says my God, passing away:
Winter passes after the long wait: 20
New grapes on the vine, new figs on the young branch,
Turtle calls turtle in Heaven's May.
Though I delay, wait for Me, trust Me, watch and pray:
Get up, come away, night is over and look, it is day,
My love, My sister, My spouse, you will hear Me say.
Then I answered: Yes.

It’s all done. What’s done?
  No, a lot is really done now!—
The harvest days we worked hard for;
  Now the sheaves are freshly gathered,
  Now the wheat is collected properly.

It’s over. What’s over?
  A lot is over, whether we know it or not:
Lives are over; time is running out;
  Was the empty field never planted?
  Will these buds never bloom? 10

It’s enough. What’s enough?
  Everything is enough when seen clearly:
Spring will flourish where the ice is now,
  Roses will make the thorny bushes pretty,
  And the warm sun will shine brightly,
  And the gentle breeze will blow softly,
And my garden will be full of fragrances.

Till all sweet gums and juices flow,
Till the blossom of blossoms blooms,
The long hours come and go,
  The bride sleeps, wakes, sleeps,
Waiting for someone whose arrival is slow:—
    Hark! the bride weeps.

'How long must I wait, come heat, come frost?'—
'Till the strong Prince arrives, who will come in time'
(Her women say), 'there's a mountain to climb,
  A river to cross. Sleep, dream, and sleep; 10
Sleep' (they say): 'we've silenced the chime,
    Better to dream than to weep.'

In his grand palace, the strong Prince sat,
Relaxing on cushions and a mat,
His staff and his hat were close by.
  'When will you leave? The bride is waiting, young man.'—
'Now that the moon is full; I waited for that,
    Now I’m really on my way.

'But tell me first, true voice of my doom,
Of my concealed bride in her youthful beauty; 20
Does she keep watch through light and darkness,
  Waiting for me, whether I'm awake or asleep?'—
'Enchanted, she watches in one bright room,
    And is patient for your sake.

'By her head, lilies and rosebuds grow;
The lilies droop, will the rosebuds bloom?
The slender silver lilies hang their heads low;
  Their flow is limited, their sunshine rare:
Let the sun shine bright, and let the stream flow,
    They will blossom and thrive beautifully. 30

'Red and white poppies grow at her feet,
The blood-red ones wait for the warm summer heat,
Wrapped in their fuzzy and neat buds;
  But the white buds swell, and one day they’ll burst,
Will open their sleepy and sweet death-cups—
    Which one will open first?'

Then a hundred sad voices let out a wail,
And a hundred happy voices sang on the wind:
'Time is short, life is short,' they continued the story:
  'Life is sweet, love is sweet, make the most of today; 40
Love is sweet, and tomorrow might not come;
    Love is sweet, seize today.'

While the song played softly, begging and gentle,
The Prince stood up, a flush on his cheek,
He stood up to act and to explore,
  Stepping out with the joy of his strength;
Strong in body but weak in resolve,
    Finally taking off.

Forth he went in the breezy morning,
Crossing green fields of swaying corn, 50
As fine a Prince as ever was born;
  Singing along with the singing lark;—
Surely his bride will be won and worn,
    Before it gets dark.

So light was his step, so cheerful was his smile,
A milkmaid hung out by a fence,
Put down her pail and took a break,
  A wavy-haired milkmaid, rosy and fair;
The Prince, who had traveled at least a mile,
    Became thirsty at the sight. 60

'Will you give me a morning drink?'—
'You're very welcome,' she replied, laughing.
He lifted the bucket and drank the fresh milk;
  Then wiped his curly black beard like silk:
'The whitest cow that ever calved
    Surely gave you this milk.'

Was it milk now, or was it cream?
Was she a maid, or a bad dream?
Her eyes started to sparkle and shine;
  He would have left, but he stayed instead; 70
Green they shone as he looked into them:
    'Pay me what you owe,' she said.—

'I will give you a gold jewel.'—
'No way; gold is heavy and cold.'—
'I will give you a velvet wrap
  Of exquisite craftsmanship to enhance your beauty.'—
'I prefer my light and white scarf
    Rolled around my neck.'—

'No,' he said, 'but decide your own payment.'—
She laughed, 'You can give me the full moon; 80
Or just sit here under this apple tree
  For one carefree day by my side;
After that, I'll set you free,
    And the world is vast.'

Loth to stay, but to leave her slack,
He half turned away, then he fully turned back:
For the sake of decency, he couldn't lack
  To honor his own royal promise;
Ahead, too, the windy sky darkened black
    With a fire-split edge. 90

So he stretched out in the shade of the apple tree,
Lying there, laughing and chatting with the girl,
Who twisted her hair into a clever braid
  And curled it shining like serpent coils,
And kept him for a day and night caught
    In her clever traps.

At the end of the night and the start of the day,
When the owl stopped its serious antics,
And the bat hung around out of sight,
  The songs of the song thrush and the blackbird woke, 100
And heaven changed out of its dull grey
    For a mother-of-pearl glow.

Popped up daisies here and there,
Here, there, and everywhere;
A hopeful lark rose in the air,
  Spreading his chest towards the sun;
While the moon set in a solemn and beautiful way
    Away in the West.

'Up, up, up,' called the watchman lark,
In his clear wake-up call: 'Listen, oh listen! 110
Aim for the high goal, soar to the target.
  Get up, O lazy one, a new morning is here;
If you're still asleep when the night comes,
    You’ll have to wait for another morning.'

'Up, up, up,' both sad and happy voices rose:
'So the tree falls and lies where it’s cut down.
Let your bonds be loosened, O sleeper, long restrained
  In sweet sleep whose end isn’t sweet.
Let the looseness tighten and the softness fade
    And the slowness disappear.' 120

Off he went. The grass grew sparse,
A blight hovered in the darkening air,
The moss became colorless and thin,
  The last daisy stood all alone;
Behind him, the soil lay bare,
    But it was even more barren ahead.