The bleak fields are asleep, My heart alone wakes; The evening in the harbour Down his red sails takes.
Night, guardian of dreams, Now wanders through the land; The moon, a lily white, Blossoms within her hand.
MARY VIRGINHow came, how came from out thy night Mary, so much light And so much gloom: Who was thy bridegroom?
Thou callest, thou callest and thou hast forgot That thou the same art not Who came to me In thy Virginity.
I am still so blossoming, so young. How shall I go on tiptoe From childhood to Annunciation Through the dim twilight Into thy Garden.
THE BOOK OF PICTURES PRESAGINGI am like a flag unfurled in space, I scent the oncoming winds and must bend with them, While the things beneath are not yet stirring, While doors close gently and there is silence in the chimneys And the windows do not yet tremble and the dust is still heavy- Then I feel the storm and am vibrant like the sea And expand and withdraw into myself And thrust myself forth and am alone in the great storm.
AUTUMNThe leaves fall, fall as from far, Like distant gardens withered in the heavens; They fall with slow and lingering descent. And in the nights the heavy Earth, too, falls From out the stars into the Solitude.
Thus all doth fall. This hand of mine must fall And lo! the other one:-it is the law. But there is One who holds this falling Infinitely softly in His hands.
SILENT HOURWhoever weeps somewhere out in the world Weeps without cause in the world Weeps over me. Whoever laughs somewhere out in the night Laughs without cause in the night Laughs at me.
Whoever wanders somewhere in the world Wanders in vain in the world Wanders to me. Whoever dies somewhere in the world Dies without cause in the world Looks at me.
THE ANGELSThey all have tired mouths And luminous, illimitable souls; And a longing (as if for sin) Trembles at times through their dreams.
They all resemble one another, In God's garden they are silent Like many, many intervals In His mighty melody.
But when they spread their wings They awaken the winds That stir as though God With His far-reaching master hands Turned the pages of the dark book of Beginning.
SOLITUDESolitude is like a rain That from the sea at dusk begins to rise; It floats remote across the far-off plain Upward into its dwelling-place, the skies, Then o'er the town it slowly sinks again. Like rain it softly falls at that dim hour When ghostly lanes turn toward the shadowy morn; When bodies weighed with satiate passion's power Sad, disappointed from each other turn; When men with quiet hatred burning deep Together in a common bed must sleep- Through the gray, phantom shadows of the dawn Lo! Solitude floats down the river wan ...
KINGS IN LEGENDSKings in old legends seem Like mountains rising in the evening light. They blind all with their gleam, Their loins encircled are by girdles bright, Their robes are edged with bands Of precious stones-the rarest earth affords- With richly jeweled hands They hold their slender, shining, naked swords.
THE KNIGHTThe Knight rides forth in coat of mail Into the roar of the world. And here is Life: the vines in the vale And friend and foe, and the feast in the hall, And May and the maid, and the glen and the grail; God's flags afloat on every wall In a thousand streets unfurled.
Beneath the armour of the Knight Behind the chain's black links Death crouches and thinks and thinks: "When will the sword's blade sharp and bright Forth from the scabbard spring And cut the network of the cloak Enmeshing me ring on ring- When will the foe's delivering stroke Set me free To dance And sing?"
THE BOYI wish I might become like one of these Who, in the night on horses wild astride, With torches flaming out like loosened hair On to the chase through the great swift wind ride. I wish to stand as on a boat and dare The sweeping storm, mighty, like flag unrolled In darkness but with helmet made of gold That shimmers restlessly. And in a row, Behind me in the dark, ten men that glow With helmets that are restless, too, like mine, Now old and dull, now clear as glass they shine. One stands by me and blows a blast apace On his great flashing trumpet and the sound Shrieks through the vast black solitude around Through which, as through a wild mad dream we race. The houses fall behind us on their knees, Before us bend the streets and them we gain, The great squares yieled to us and them we seize- And on our steeds rush like the roar of rain.
INITIATIONWhosoever thou art! Out in the evening roam, Out from thy room thou know'st in every part, And far in the dim distance leave thy home, Whosoever thou art. Lift thine eyes which lingering see The shadows on the foot-worn threshold fall, Lift thine eyes slowly to the great dark tree That stands against heaven, solitary, tall, And thou hast visioned Life, its meanings rise Like words that in the silence clearer grow; As they unfold before thy will to know Gently withdraw thine eyes-
THE NEIGHBOURStrange violin! Dost thou follow me? In many foreign cities, far away, Thy lone voice spoke to me like memory. Do hundreds play thee, or does but one play?
Are there in all great cities tempest-tossed Men who would seek the rivers but for thee, Who, but for thee, would be forever lost? Why drifts thy lonely voice always to me? Why am I the neighbour always Of those who force to sing thy trembling strings? Life is more heavy-thy song says- Than the vast, heavy burden of all things.