Will you suffer my sorrow: let me forgive you. I will when the owl lights on the oak sweep with my brush your loose hair back,
And love you in bed. And wrap this sweet sheet round you,until you are dead.
The wet west wind wrapped us up; red leaves rained
down your back. Oh,you - I
know who you are, dragon dragging your muffled fires through the chilled woods.
If you were an angel, I would laugh you out of heaven, And set your hair on fire And your black eyes burning Would bloom like a black flower.
As I was a child, you pampered me with roses. In this airless room, I shuffle their petals,and inhale their thick,dull,deadly pink perfume.
The colours of wind are cold. On a cold night,I read Some books,and some books Are cold,but I read,
And in my head,I know I hear Gray grating words Winged on an arctic wind. Absurd...
How he loved me!trembled, if I touched his hand. I saw his quick eyes glittering in the night. I saw him strip off his skin. And white bones clattering, he fled into the night.
Against the blue air, He floats muter than a ghost. I watch his wavering there, Upon the air,But he says nothing at all, But floats above the air.
In this pink dawn, My heart flares up and dies down. Bright wind crackles around my ankles. I held my tongue When you went away.
If I said I loved you, It was because I was bored. Or in an aimless moment, I many have caught the mood of the moon Making overtures toward a mockingbird.
I could have sworn I saw the leaves changing color,
the west wind torn from the sky and buched into a cloud.
I could have sworn you scorched my sleep like lightning.
But as the fading sun clips you from my sight, I will remember you.
When you have gone, the sun like a silent song will burn up the far side of night.