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Li-Young Lee
Li-Young Lee
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HT
цитує
2 роки тому
t’s late. I’ve come
to find the flower which blossoms
like a saint dying upside down.
The rose won’t do, nor the iris.
I’ve come to find the moody one, the shy one,
downcast, grave, and isolated.
HT
цитує
2 роки тому
see most clearly
your true nature.
Small, auroral, your death is large.
You live, you die with me, in spite
of me, like my sleeping wife.
HT
цитує
2 роки тому
Always a rose ready
to spill its petals, so that I must pluck
each of them, or crush
the whole thing in my fist.
Or I must cup it
in my hands, adore it,
in silence,
or, more often,
in words.
HT
цитує
2 роки тому
Still you say nothing.
So keep secret,
HT
цитує
2 роки тому
I form one word,
then another, one
word
for every moment
which passes, and if I do so until
all words are spoken, then
begin again,
if I adore you, Rose,
with adoration become nonsense become
praise, could I stop our dying?
HT
цитує
2 роки тому
love your nakedness.
Naked, shy flower, sweet
to my nose, and bitter
to my tongue, among
the dying things
are you and I.
HT
цитує
2 роки тому
though something about the way they
stand suggests fatigue
HT
цитує
2 роки тому
Where were you last night
that even the storm didn’t waken you?
Even as I came to your room, closed the windows,
and kissed you, you slept.
Night passed
with interminable rain.
HT
цитує
2 роки тому
And don’t mistake my stillness
for awe.
It’s just that I don’t want to waken her,
though I’d love to cup her chin in my palms,
HT
цитує
2 роки тому
Listen now to something human.
I know moments measured
by a kiss, or a tear, a pass of the hand along a loved one’s face.
I know lips that love me,
that return my kisses
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