| |
| WHAT shall we talk of—Li Po? Hokusai?— | |
| You narrow your long dark eyes to fascinate me; | |
| You smile a little…. Outside, the night goes by. | |
| I walk alone in a forest of ghostly trees…. | |
| Your pale hands rest palm downwards on your knees. | 5 |
| |
| These lines—converging—they suggest such distance! | |
| The soul is drawn away, beyond horizons,— | |
| Lured out to what? One dares not think. | |
| Sometimes—I glimpse these infinite perspectives | |
| In intimate talk (—with such as you) and shrink…. | 10 |
| |
| ‘One feels so petty!—One feels such—emptiness!—’ | |
| You mimic horror, let fall your lifted hand, | |
| And smile at me; with brooding tenderness…. | |
| Alone in darkened waters I fall and rise; | |
| Slow waves above me break, faint waves of cries. | 15 |
| |
| ‘And then, these colors … but who would dare describe them? | |
| This faint rose-coral pink … this green—pistachio?— | |
| So insubstantial! Like the dim ghostly things | |
| Two lovers find in love’s still twilight chambers… | |
| Old peacock-fans, and fragrant silks and rings…. | 20 |
| |
| ‘Rings, let us say, drawn from the hapless fingers | |
| Of some great lady many centuries nameless,— | |
| Or is that too sepulchral?—dulled with dust; | |
| And necklaces that crumble if you touch them; | |
| And gold brocades that breathed on, fall to rust,— | 25 |
| |
| ‘No—I am wrong … it is not these I sought for— | |
| Why did they come to mind?—You understand me— | |
| You know these strange vagaries of the brain!’— | |
| —I walk alone in a forest of ghostly trees; | |
| Your pale hands rest palm downwards on your knees; | 30 |
| These strange vagaries of yours are all too plain. | |
| |
| ‘But why perplex ourselves with tedious problems | |
| Of art or … such things?… While we sit here, living | |
| With all that’s in our secret hearts to say!’— | |
| Hearts?—Your pale hand softly strokes the satin. | 35 |
| You play deep music—know well what you play. | |
| You stroke the satin with thrilling of fingertips, | |
| You smile, with faintly perfumed lips, | |
| You loose your thoughts like birds, | |
| Brushing our dreams with soft and shadowy words…. | 40 |
| We know your words are foolish, yet here we stay, | |
| I to be played on, you to play; | |
| We know our words are foolish, yet sit here bound | |
| In tremulous webs of sound. | |
| |
| ‘How beautiful is intimate talk like this!— | 45 |
| It is as if we dissolved grey walls between us, | |
| Stepped through the solid portals become but shadows, | |
| To hear a sudden music…. Our own vast shadows | |
| Lean to a giant size on the windy walls, | |
| Or dwindle away; we hear our soft footfalls | 50 |
| Echo forever behind us, ghostly clear. | |
| Music sings far off, flows suddenly near, | |
| And dies away like rain…. | |
| We walk through subterranean caves again,— | |
| Vaguely above us feeling | 55 |
| A shadowy weight of frescoes on the ceiling, | |
| Strange half-lit things, | |
| Soundless grotesques with writhing claws and wings…. | |
| And here a beautiful face looks down upon us; | |
| And someone hurries before, unseen, and sings…. | 60 |
| Have we seen all, I wonder, in these chambers— | |
| Or is there yet some gorgeous vault arched low, | |
| Where sleeps an amazing beauty we do not know?…’ | |
| |
| The question falls: we walk in silence together | |
| Thinking of that deep vault, and of its secret…. | 65 |
| This lamp, these books, this fire | |
| Are suddenly blown away in a whistling darkness. | |
| Deep walls crash down in the whirlwind of desire. | |
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