The Project Gutenberg eBook of Poems
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.
Title: Poems
Author: Elizabeth Bibesco
Release date: September 21, 2026 [eBook #79624]
Language: English
Original publication: New York: George H. Doran Company, 1927
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/79624
Credits: Chuck Greif & The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS ***
POEMS
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
*
_I Have Only Myself to Blame_
_Balloons_
_The Fir and the Palm_
_The Whole Story_
*
PLAYS
_The Painted Swan_
_Points of View_
*
IN PREPARATION
_There is No Return_
POEMS
*
_Elizabeth Bibesco_
NEW [Illustration: colophon] YORK
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
1927
Made and Printed in Great Britain by
William Brendon & Son, Ltd., Plymouth
TO
MY BELOVED FATHER
I
Each ash is raised by some dead fire--
A monument
To our lost fevers of desire,
That now lie spent,
In the cold discipline of death,
Cooling their breath.
But you, my love, with your light tread
Of Ecstasy,
Will dance a measure to the dead,
Who only see
The slow encroaching mists of grey,
That make a spirit’s holiday.
Fire, the precursor of the ash,
The wastrel flame,
Fashioned the darkness with a flash
Until there came
Day’s reasoning economy
To set light free.
But you, my love, will burn the night
With flickering eye,
Holding all darkness and all light
In jeopardy,
Who know that heart and blood and bone
And dusk and fire and ash are one.
II
A LETTER
I send you this daisy, whose petals enfold
The love, that I hid in the star that she stole,
When the daisy demanded a heart made of gold.
I send you this daisy aflame at the tips
Of her petals that blushed, when their virginal white
Was stained into love by the touch of my lips.
I send you this daisy, for you will discover,
That God when He fashioned His dust to a flower
Made a chalice to carry the love of a lover.
III
Oh, I will shut my eyes to see the moon,
Knowing that thus he ever will be there,
Insurgent senses, lock your magic up,
Seal up the visual world however fair.
Then I’ll see moons of silver, gold and white,
Dim fading moons escaping in thin mist,
Harsh moons, red hot, that burn into the night
Branding the dark with unforgiving light.
I’ll shut my ears to each enticing tune,
A bird may sing, or streams on pebbles play,
Then in my heart such harmonies will ring
As wash the music of the world away.
If I were crippled, deaf and dumb and blind,
And all the colours of the world turned out,
In the grey emptiness I then would find
The answer to the riddle: sight is doubt.
Had I no eyes, how clearly would I see,
Had I no ears, how deeply would I hear,
Freed of all proof at last myself I’d be,
Without confusion, phantasy or fear.
IV
WINTER
Inviolate winter, cold and still and white,
Give me a peace, that knows not joy or pain;
Banish the spring; let love call out in vain
For her dread toll of torment and delight.
Let no sweet warmth thaw me to life again;
Let not the darkness splinter into light;
Give me a dreamless sleep, a mornless night,
A silent earth that knows not sun or rain.
Defeat the tingling urgency of spring,
That wracks the earth with torture and desire,
Planting each breeze with fever and with fire,
Wantonly stirring life in everything.
Winter, incurious, aloof, apart,
You rape no secret and you tell no story.
Wrapped in your shroud I’ll scorn the summer’sglory
Of burning flowers, that flaunt death at their heart.
You lay a veil over the tired eyes
Of earth. Unsmiling and without a word
You draw the curtain, and you sheath the sword
Hopeless and fearless, passionless and wise.
You have no pain to spend, nor hope to borrow,
In whom both past and future miss their way.
Nor shall we grudge it that you steal to-morrow,
Who equally have stolen yesterday.
V
If you don’t love my love, my dear,
It is not there.
What you don’t love can never be
A thought of mine, a part of me.
And so, beware!
For every smile and every tear
Is born of hope and bred of fear;
Only despair
Is mine alone. And being mine
Can blot your image, lock your shrine.
In the still dust beneath your feet
I lie alone and incomplete,
But you,
Though you may pass me in disdain.
Will know the all-fulfilling pain.
And rue
The burning love that, liking not,
You fanned to flame and left to rot.
For it is not my love, my dear,
Has died,
But you; the glow-worms in your eyes,
The singing echoes of your sighs
That lied.
Where is the brightness of the glance
That taught my secret thoughts to dance?
Tell me
Where is the music in your voice
That made the nightingale rejoice?
I see
No more sweet hopes, no more sweet fears,
You’ve lost your smiles, you’ve lost my tears.
Yet how
Deep in your soul by day and night
My constant love gave warmth and light,
With many a bitter blast it fought
Blood of your heart, bone of your thought!
And now
My love you have extinguishèd
And you, my dear, not I, are dead.
VI
But what is in your heart, my dear?
If every hope is spun of fear,
And each delight is called despair
By those who think and those who dare.
What good to you is blue and gold?
A love unlit, a tale untold,
A dream undreamt, which tries to keep
Secure within a fort of sleep?
What though your gleaming hair be spun
Out of the fabric of the sun?
What if the gentian in your eyes
Is stolen from the deepest skies?
The sun will set, the brightness fade,
Into a grey decline of shade.
Then, dearest, let it not be said
Your eyes were drowned in tears unshed,
Frightened you locked your love away
Into the cold and sure decay
Of unused things, that voiceless die
Without a laugh, without a cry--
Is not all rapture wrought of pain?
Unweeping you rejoice in vain.
There is no smile without a tear;
There is no courage without fear.
Therefore, my love, if you would live
You first must lose and then must give,
You first must dream and then may sleep;
There is no wasting save to keep,--
So when the flowers in your eyes
Have proved by death that nothing dies,
Your gold forlorn has turned to grey,
Victorious you still shall say:
“I’ve known all torment, felt all bliss,
Each burning tear, each icy kiss,
And hopeless hope and fearless fear,
Reason enthronèd, thought austere.
Fashioned of folly, I am wise;
Out of my joys I’ve stolen sighs;
With broken bits I’ve built a heart.
There is no whole without a part.
Though tears and laughter dim my eyes
I’ve taught the setting sun to rise;
Though life be tired and love be old,
My dream is dreamt, my tale is told.”
VII
When I was young my beauty was unfurled,
A fluttering banner waving to the world,
Its brightness stolen by each errant eye
In brief indifference of larceny.
Were my eyes bright? Their brightness was no mine.
Bravely they shone as they were taught to shine,
Scattering sparks without a thought or care
That hearts may perish--can the fair be fair?
My smiling lips, did they belong to me?
When all the world stood on tiptoe to see
What they could capture, and if beauty can
Blossom imprisoned in the eyes of man.
My face was stolen every night and day,
Some snatched it roughly, and some slunk away
Taking a treasure they could not redeem,
Locking my image in a secret dream--
Yet did I not, through all those golden days
Spangled with hopes dissolving into rays,
Silently weeping, crying out alone,
Beseech my loveliness to be my own.
For, my beloved, has it not ever been
My unsought beauty that has come between
Us--though I’ve prayed for a disfiguring stain
To blot my face, and give it back again.
For then, my dearest, as I proudly knew,
Unlovely, wrinkled, I’d belong to you;
There is no watcher for an unlit scene,
Though love be there, where loveliness has been.
Only, dear heart, you would not wait, but went
Before my alien loveliness was spent;
When you had left my beauty died away,
Slowly retreating before night and day.
Sitting without you, old and dim and plain,
Vainly I crave my beauty back again,
Looking about me silent and alone;
Only my ruins still are called my own.
* * * * *
When you are young, your beauty goes to others;
When you are old, your face comes back again.
Lovely, unloving, the world is full of lovers;
Age teaches love, but teaches love in vain.
VIII
THE TOKEN
You took my ribbon and you said to me:
“Only belovèd it will ever be
A part of you, a little secret sign
That what is yours is always doubly mine.”
I gave my ribbon and you said: “You see
While it was yours it still belonged to me.
Now it is mine, and therefore yours again.
So my beloved you’ve given it in vain.”
IX
TESTAMENT
When I am dead what shall I leave to you?
Some faint imaginings, a doubt or two,
And one great dream that never could come true.
When I am dead then I will leave to you
A legacy of little things we knew
When the sun shone, and when the sky was blue--
The dusty windings of a road in Spain,
A smile you left upon the window-pane,
The only tear you ever wept in vain.
Your tangled sweetnesses divinely grave,
The silent memories of you I have
Deep, timid secrets struggling to be brave.
For I will leave you no heroic thing,
No unguessed poverty of Pope or King,
A ring of smoke, but not a ruby ring.
Proud as a beggar, lonely as the free,
What I gave you must still belong to me,
But what you gave is called eternity.
X
CONCEIT
A trembling leaf on an indifferent tree,
Defiant foam rebelling at the sea,
A drowsy flower surrendering to a bee--
I wonder which is you, and which is me?
The smallest leaf is life to every tree,
The furthest spray returneth to the sea,
The tightest bud must open to a bee.
If I am you, then, surely you are me?
XI
VISION
The days are gone when I could see your face--
When all your loveliness was in my eyes,
A phantom image, dancing into space,
Fleeing from certainty to seek surprise.
Your face is gone for you are with me here.
My eyes are shut; kneeling I ask for grace--
If I was blind with sight forgive me, dear.
The days are gone when I could see your face.
XII
TO-GETHER
Why in the word to-gether should there lie
The desolate separation that is life?
* * * * *
Her image buried in unseeing sight,
His eyes alighted on unchosen spots,
Like lost ideas adventuring in a mind,
A tangled twilit wilderness of thought.
As she was ever folded in the peace
That lapped the deep seclusion of his heart,
How could he know her tortured doubting soul,
Craving for certainty, destroying faith,
Her fevered body vainly seeking rest
In the unconscious refuge of his arms.
For as he stroked her face, her arms, her hands,
His love was moored to some eternal coast
Some distant outpost of the absolute--
Yet while she sank, deep in the cool, rapt quiet
Of touch and sight and sound and certainty,
The foolish creature murmured to herself:
“These happy moments let me hold them tight,
And let our love for ever merge and fuse,
And not be sometimes mine and sometimes his.
Oh God! I’m happy; let me not forget.”
So, in remembering, all the magic went,
While, battering down the ramparts of her peace,
Were silly fears and petty questionings
That clawed and tore and crumpled up her joy.
How could he know the anguish of the cry
Sheathed in a casual, charming, courteous voice,
“When shall I see you, when will you come again?”
“You must forgive me for my long, long stay.
When I am with you I forget the time;
But you, my dear, you think of everything.”
XIII
REVENGE
“Yes, she is dead
And what more can be said?”
Those were the words you left for me to use
But I refuse--
Proudly you ask to be
Kept in simplicity.
Only--revenge is mine--
I’ll kill you with a shrine,
Festooned with all the gleaming words that hide
Your meaning and offend your pride.
You see, I’m still your thief,
A beggar of belief.
And I can steal from you
A million lies made true.
She was so beautiful! If you must know
Her body darted, but her smile was slow,
Her eyes dissolved into a hidden glow,
A burning lining of eternal snow.
You who liked words untrimmed and stark and plain,
Who really thought that vanities were vain,
Where is it now, your proud austerity?
Your frugal folly of virginity?
You are no longer free, for you belong
To every lilting cadence of my song.
You, who despised the fripperies of rhyme,
Who flouted space, and disregarded time,
Who thought each lovely folly was a crime--
Unlit, implacable and yet sublime!
Now that you’re dead, now I can warm you with
The glowing weavings of a gleaming myth;
Into your peace I’ll plunge a thousand swords
Of burning phantasies and coloured words.
I’ll show no mercy now that you are mine,
Your very self dissolved in my design.
XIV
An age ago I looked for you
In silver frost and rainbow dew,
In winter white and winter blue.
I peeped among the daffodils,
I searched the gloaming, when it stills
The clamour of a hundred trills.
Into the darkness I would pry,
Where discontented waters try
To capture moons from every sky.
But wisdom came, and then I tried
To find a place where you could hide.
A shaft of sun could be a screen,
For in the shimmer and the sheen
Your brightness might escape unseen.
The whitest rose would be a place
Where you could hope to hide your face,
Protected by a double grace.
Or bathing naked in a stream
A man might see your body gleam,
And shut his eyes to keep the dream.
And, were you seeking alibis,
Delphinium pools and larkspur skies
Would offer shelter to your eyes.
Where can I search, when just for you
Gold will conspire with white and blue,
And suns turn water into dew?
I think I’ll wait until I see,
Released from beauty, wearily,
A woman coming back to me.
When suns go in, and petals fall,
And greyness slinks about us all,
Maybe you’ll find a different place
To shut your eyes and hide your face,
And in the heart you left behind
An everlasting refuge find.
XV
SIGHT
Why should we limit beauty with our eye,
Bolted within the prison of our sight,
Catching a tiny fragment of the sky,
Calling each flare of unseen sunrise, night?
Why should the fading primrose at our feet
Toll the dim curfew of a dying spring;
Why should each loveliness we know defeat
The ardent beauty of an unknown thing?
Why can we not see roses in the snow,
The roses burning crimson in the white?
Why does our vision, sensible and slow,
Instead of leading, dully follow sight?
When in the tumbling riot of September
The forest fires of colour sweep each wood,
Our dim entangled eyesight can remember
No frozen beauty of a winter’s mood.
“The world is too much with us.” But which world?
The tiny, tidy suburb of our senses,
Where mysteries are carefully kept furled
Lest some strange guess should tug at our defences.
And up above the poor sun on his throne,
Who cannot know the solace of the night,
The smooth, soft dark denied to him alone,
Whose condemnation is continual light.
Were I to tell him of a star or moon
Why should he listen to such idle prattle?
He’s the all-seeing monarch of the noon
And tales of darkness, envy’s tittle-tattle.
Oh, my dear God, Thou who art unconfined
By all the frontiers Thou hast forced on me,
One boon I ask: since Thou hast made me blind,
Let me remember that I cannot see.
XVI
PRAYER
When I was young I told God what to do,
And called it prayer.
Even the questions that I asked of you
I let Him share.
There were so many things He might not see,
That was my fear--
I told him ways of secret ecstasy,
He would not hear.
Now that I’m old, I have been taught to see
The unspoilt sweetness that is yesterday.
Without a future man at last is free,
With nought to ask for I have learnt to pray.
XVII
In a pale rose the heart of summer lies;
A glow-worm breaks the blackness of the night;
On the still air a petal floats and dies;
One more pale flame is swallowed by the light.
A wanton bud is drinking up the rain,
Believing it will some day be a rose;
The fickle earth is fertile once again;
The lustful sun in crimson triumph glows.
I want the flower that was yesterday,
And gave its fading fragrance to the air;
I want the flame that flickered in the fray
And knew the blatant brightness of despair.
What do I care for this awakening?
God give me deafness lest I hear the shout,
The harsh, forgetful tumult of the spring;
My rose is withered and my fire is out.
XVIII
FIRST FEAR
There were those days when you would worship me
With the hushed silences of ecstasy,
Unsmiling lips and eyes too full to see.
With singing thoughts that climbed from trill to trill,
With waking dreams that sleeping could fulfil,
With that wild wisdom sense can never still.
When sometimes you would dream to hold me tight,
As a grey dawn enfolds a secret light
In silent homage to a dying night.
I was the fullness that to-morrows bring,
I was the glimmer of each unseen thing,
I was the taunting temptings of the spring.
I was fragility and I was fire,
I was your reverence and your desire,
I was your laurel and I was your lyre.
Was I myself, or was I some small light
That lit the waiting furnace of your sight--
And thus became a symbol of delight?
What was I but the beauty of first love
Scattering flowers below and stars above?
For in that image you had made me, dear.
You did not know me, yet you taught me fear.
Irony faltered and I nearly flew;
Perhaps I showed you love, but I loved you.
XIX
BANISHMENT
Could you but walk but always you must fly;
I am so weary of your tireless wings.
Why must you make me perfect with a lie?
I am so hungry for imperfect things.
Why should I be this phantom of desire
Planted amidst the glitter of the stars?
I crave the smoky flicker of a fire,
And some small battle with its pride of scars.
You have condemned me to these unsought skies,
You who can worship but who cannot love,
Whose icy vision turns unseeing eyes
On all the mysteries that life can prove.
Must you adore me as if I were dead?
And all my cherished weaknesses were vain?
Why should you put a halo round my head
When I have asked you for a daisy chain?
Give me one little folly that is mine!
Why should I be the captive of your art--
A flawless image prisoned in a shrine,
Far from the wanton tarnish of the heart.
You do not know the turmoil and the tangles
The tugging mysteries that living brings;
Your pure perfection stretches till it strangles
The stumbling loveliness of little things.
Could I but break your dream and make you see
A cloudy morning and a starless night,
Some splinters of a broken ecstasy
The many fragments that are called delight.
But your hard dream has conquered even fate!
I shall for ever sit upon my throne
Removed from hope or doubt, from love or hate--
A ghost of beauty that you call your own.
XX
Sometimes you say to me “When I am dead----”
And then I smile--
As if you were just civil and well bred
And imbecile;
And saying something like “the pleasure’s mine----”
Or “Yes, I think to-morrow will be fine.”
But I last night, I dreamt that you were dead,
I did not weep;
True tears, alas! will always stay unshed,
They are too deep
To reach the smooth wet surface of the eye--
That shallow mirror, where all sorrows die.
It seemed to me I felt the frozen day
When I would wake,
With pain, itself benumbed, too tired to flay;
Nor could I take
A warm and living hour within my hands--
Despair itself had ceased to make demands.
And now your arms are round me once again;
And one small tear
Marks the forgotten lesson of my pain.
I cannot hear
The foolish rumblings of mortality;
For you, my love, are Heaven and Hell to me.
XXI
The sky’s too full for mortal to discover
A little star that privately will shine.
If you are love, then I will be no lover
Taking from you the glory that was mine.
You took my secret but you did not know it.
--Secrets will die in alien custody--
If you are poetry I am no poet,
For I disdain your stolen melody.
A thief of suns and moons and stars, that dangles
Misleading glitter before empty minds.
Your greedy soul will grasp the golden spangles,
Lovers and poets scatter to the winds.
Yet you are poetry and love and passion,
And that fulfilment which is called despair,
The grinding force that still must fake and fashion
Each falling fancy, floating on the air.
For you are love and I, alas! I know it.
And you the poetry I could not smother.
And that, my love, is why I am no poet,
And that, my love, is why I am no lover.
XXII
The watchful stars locked up the sky,
And kept the secret of the night
Far from the pride of mortal eye,
The pride that seeks the infinite.
The silver current tugged the stream,
And would not let the waters be,
Both Heaven and Hell broke up my dream
With taunts of immortality.
The lily’s bells rung out the spring,
And banished every daffodil;
A siren heard a skylark sing,
And so decided to be still.
But when you came the darkness fell
To cloak you from each prying star;
For once united, Heaven and Hell
In seeing you forgot to spar.
The current ceased to nag the stream,
The water quietly took your face,
And held it mirrored in a dream,
A drowning dream which left no trace.
And seeing you, the daffodils
Said to the lilies: “This is spring.”
The lilies murmured: “She fulfils
Summer’s eternal blossoming.”
And hearing you, a nightingale
Averred: “The song I now shall sing
Will curse the silences that fail
To herald your awakening.”
You came to me, I shut my eyes,
Begging that God might give me grace
Blindly to see the paradise
He had confided to your face.
XXIII
I would, beloved, that I knew a way
Misleading things to say.
I’d mint my love into some golden guesses,
And weave a web of pregnant prettinesses.
First I would lure you in, then catch you out,
Resolved to teach you doubt.
Is there a way to learn to hide our love,
And so ourselves disprove?
Can this great certainty be self-denied
And moulded to a plaything of our pride?
And can we practise wanton abstinence
Even in self-defence?
How could I dull my voice and dim my eye
Faced by your mockery?
How could I tame the tune and lull the light,
And steal a fear, for you, from my own fright?
When all the time you heard my thumping heart,
Too wise to play a part?
I give you the great silences of love,
That no words can disprove.
The limelit loveliness, the lyric lilt,
The gold that’s tarnished, and the tune that’s spilt,
They have been conquered under the duress
Of love’s last emptiness.
XXIV
“Always I’ll love you!” Then you sigh:
With foolish white-faced misery
And tell me tales of loves that die.
You say: “I’m weary of the lie
That lovers call eternity
Giving to love an alibi.”
But ’tis most wanton to despise
The old-established verities,
That grant illusions to the wise.
In the tired darkness of your eyes
I’ve found my chosen paradise;
And if they lie--God give me lies!
My darling, what a goose you are
To plant a doubt in every star.
XXV
I would there were another name for love,
A name that did not tell such tales of pain,
Like a cracked bell that rings with broken dreams
And little hopes that lived and died in vain.
I would there were another name for love,
That did not tell of passions’ breakages,
And all the murdered beauties of the spring
And all the lost illusions of the ages.
I would there were another name for love,
An empty name unstained with prying eyes,
And pirate lips, and prowling certainties,
The plundered loot of a lost paradise.
I would there were another name for love,
An untouched name, where crumpled innocence,
Scorched by the hot indifference of lust,
Had not been branded by impermanence.
I would there were another name for love,
A timid name, aquiver and unsure,
A name for which no captain ever fought,
A name unknown to any troubadour.
I want a name without a history,
A name that dies away before it rings
In mocking echoes through the caves of Time,
That falls asleep under my whisperings.
The name I want is nothing but a breath
That voiceless fades upon the dusky air,
A name that never sought to catch delight,
And never held the music of despair.
But I have found another name for love,
Though ’tis the name that all the lovers knew,
The oldest name that mortal ever spoke,
The other name for love is simply--you!
XXVI
Perfection came and whispered in your ear
“Listen, I’m here”;
You turned away and moaned to me: “My dear,
We must not hear.
“Let us be wise, my love, and be afraid--
Even though God made
The glory, yours and mine, that we have known,
’Tis best to fly before the glory’s flown.
Go, fly, my own.
“To-morrow I might come, aflame, athirst,
And take you first
Before you’d waked to love, and your dark eyes
Would close their lids upon my paradise.
And in my Hell
I’d break your dream and burn my soul as well.”
I said to you: “Oh man of little faith!
It is no wraith
Of frightened loveliness I take to you,
No virgin avarice of white and blue,
But just my pain,
That, having given you, I must give again.”
Beauty, from out the madness of her bosom,
Spoke: “I will blossom
Though all the saints and cowards say ‘Be wise
And eschew Paradise.’
So from the folly of fear’s boundary
I’ll set perfection free.”
Wake up, my love, oh my dear love, Awake!
Lest when death comes he finds no life to take,
But sees a heap of sheaths that knew no swords.
An empty tomb embittered with the words--
“Here lies beauty,
But I lie
Further from Eternity.
For in choosing to be wise
I rejected Paradise.”
XXVII
No mortal ever knows
How to surrender to a rose;
But simply says: “Suppose
This flower should teach me how to die,
Where would I find Eternity?”
God in His wrath arose
And let his thunder peal the word: “Suppose!
Do not defile the rose.
Petal-light is the weight of My power;
And man in the dust shall kneel to a flower.”
XXVIII
You said: “Watch over me while you’re away.”
I hid you in my heart in still delight,
As some quiet shadow, folding up the day,
Denies her to the brilliance of the night.
You know, my love, the tiredness in my face
To sudden loveliness is always lit
Each time you look at me. You give to space
A further spaciousness, a holy writ.
While I’m away, my love, my old beguiling
Will slowly rust in chosen abstinence,
The smile you love will harden into smiling,
Some brittle trick of feminine defence.
The voice you love will lose its golden shadows
And ripple brightly at an even pace,
A tinkling rivulet of sunny shallows
A-glitter with an emptiness of grace.
The beauty that you gave my face will vanish
Masked by some easy prettiness that may,
Contenting others, give me time to banish
The smallest trace of what you took away.
It is not difficult to hide the soul,
Man does not search for such a foolish thing
A secret substance, the incarnate symbol
Of a mysterious awakening.
While I’m away, my love, the world will see
A woman you would never recognize.
When I come back vainly they’ll look for me,
Unless they find the road to Paradise?
XXIX
My love, I do not ask an oath from you,
What are the words that you could say to me?
I want no lover swearing to be true
With broken liens on immortality.
My love, I do not want an oath from you
Robbing our silence of its sanctity.
Where could we put a word between us two?
A chain to clang the charm of liberty.
I would not make a prison of my soul.
How could I love you if you were not free
Even of my love? And you yourself the whole
Repudiation of the blasphemy
That stains with words the silences of love.
We will go out together and alone,
And to ourselves and to the whole world prove
That a caged bird is just a bird that’s flown?
Yet I, my love, am but the lonely way
That your love trod. And should you wish to take
A different road, I will not bid you stay.
Some hearts must wander and some hearts must break.
But with my broken heart I still would bless
The beauty that you only could distil,
For I have given you that great emptiness,
A heart and soul that one man could fulfil.
XXX
Sometimes I wonder why we try to prove,
You with your silence and I with my speech,
That we have found a further faith than love.
Sometimes I wonder why we try to reach,
You with closed eyes and I with straining sight,
A deeper cavern, a more distant beach
Than those we knew before we sought a light
Too pale and stern for mortal fashioning,
Before we sought to find the infinite.
Sometimes I wonder why we do not bring
A smaller chain upon our spirits need
Than a rejection of life’s blossoming.
Sometimes I wonder why we do not heed
Our hearts’ disdained entanglements of song,
With banished beauty, singing through a reed
To show the loveliness where we belong;
Till in the strength of our recaptured weakness,
We burn the empty freedoms of the strong.
XXXI
With your first kiss you made me lonely, dear,
And all the knowledge in the world was mine
Held in the slow solution of a tear
Creeping relentlessly, too sure to spill,
The first and final tear that made me thine
And shaped a void that only you could fill.
I wonder, love, if you were really wise
To empty life of all the little things
That give to desolation alibis.
I wonder, love, if when you gave me wings
You knew you had condemned me to the air,
And to a faith beyond the questionings
That toy with hope and tamper with despair,
’Till I am stranded in the absolute
That you have made and only you can share.
XXXII
The furthest wind that ever blew
Blows but to prove
That I have made no cage for you
Out of my love.
No lock, no bolt, no key, no door,
The sky our roof, the sea our floor,
The air our scent, our cloak the light,
A liberty more free than flight,
A stillness that, outpacing pace,
Dismisses time and widens space,
A lamp of loneliness alight
In homage to the infinite--
So have I emptied in my pride
The world we knew,
Of all the colours that could hide
My love for you,
And the cold miracles that I denied
You have made true.
XXXIII
You who taught the sun his light
And rolled the darkness into night,
Who gave the air her liberty
And curled the currents of the sea;
You who turbaned gentian skies
With clouds of fleecy fineries,
Whose icy vision could impose
Her perfect transcience on a rose;
You who found a baby’s hue
For Heaven; and chose an empty blue
With which to save the infinite
From the bombardment of our sight;
You who taught music how to pry
Into a whisper’s melody,
And gave the sunbeams cause to claim
Shadow as the true home of flame;
You from whom I learnt to bless
The unencumbered loneliness
That love must give and love must take,
You who taught my heart to break
And to cry out, while it was breaking,
“This is not sleeping, this is waking,”
In a mood of mockery
One day you gave myself to me!
SONNET
Into the pitiless silver of the night
When all the world is powdered by the moon,
And day’s warm shadows, frozen into light,
Forget the drowsy comfort of the noon,
Into the pitiless white of the harsh flame
That you called love, well-knowing it was death,
With open eyes and arms outstretched I came,
Kneeling to know the blessing of your breath,
Icily blowing from the core of heat,
That was my spirit since it came from you.
It was my victory and the defeat
Of all the sweet evasions that I knew,
Through the ordeal of silver and of white
My soul has gained the freedom of the night.
*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS ***
Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will
be renamed.
Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United
States without permission and without paying copyright
royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™
concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following
the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use
of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for
copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very
easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation
of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project
Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may
do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected
by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark
license, especially commercial redistribution.
START: FULL LICENSE
THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG™ LICENSE
PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project
Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
Project Gutenberg License available with this file or online at
www.gutenberg.org/license.
Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg
electronic works
1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg
electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg electronic works in your
possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
Project Gutenberg electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person
or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg electronic works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg electronic works if you follow the terms of this
agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg
electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.
1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the
Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
of Project Gutenberg electronic works. Nearly all the individual
works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
that you will support the Project Gutenberg mission of promoting
free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg
works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
Project Gutenberg name associated with the work. You can easily
comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg License when
you share it without charge with others.
1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
other Project Gutenberg work. The Foundation makes no
representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
country other than the United States.
1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg License must appear
prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg work (any work
on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the
phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed,
performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg™ License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you
are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws
of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg electronic work is
derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project
Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg
trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg electronic work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
will be linked to the Project Gutenberg License for all works
posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
beginning of this work.
1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg
License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg.
1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg License.
1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg work in a format
other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official
version posted on the official Project Gutenberg website
(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain
Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the
full Project Gutenberg License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg works
unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg electronic works
provided that:
• You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
the use of Project Gutenberg works calculated using the method
you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
to the owner of the Project Gutenberg trademark, but he has
agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation.”
• You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™
License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™
works.
• You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
receipt of the work.
• You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.
1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than
are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of
the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set
forth in Section 3 below.
1.F.
1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™
electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
cannot be read by your equipment.
1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right
of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
DAMAGE.
1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
without further opportunities to fix the problem.
1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO
OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
remaining provisions.
1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in
accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™
electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
or any Project Gutenberg work, (b) alteration, modification, or
additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg work, and (c) any
Defect you cause.
Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg
Project Gutenberg is synonymous with the free distribution of
electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
from people in all walks of life.
Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg’s
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg collection will
remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg and future
generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org.
Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit
501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification
number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws.
The Foundation’s business office is located at 41 Watchung Plaza #516,
Montclair NJ 07042, USA, +1 (862) 621-9288. Email contact links and up
to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website
and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation
Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread
public support and donations to carry out its mission of
increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest
array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
status with the IRS.
The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state
visit www.gutenberg.org/donate.
While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.
International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation
methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate.
Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg electronic works
Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
Gutenberg concept of a library of electronic works that could be
freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
distributed Project Gutenberg eBooks with only a loose network of
volunteer support.
Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
edition.
Most people start at our website which has the main PG search
facility: www.gutenberg.org.
This website includes information about Project Gutenberg,
including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
