Most glorious Lord of life, that on this day,
Didst make thy triumph over death and sin:
And having harrow’d hell, didst bring away
Captivity thence captive, us to win:
This joyous day, dear Lord, with joy begin,
And grant that we for whom thou diddest die,
Being with thy dear blood clean wash’d from sin,
May live for ever in felicity.
And that thy love we weighing worthily,
May likewise love thee for the same again:
And for thy sake, that all like dear didst buy,
With love may one another entertain.
So let us love, dear love, like as we ought,
Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught.
Sweet dream it was and also sweet affliction,
when I was dreaming that it was a dream;
a sweet delight I’d take in what deceived me,
if only that deception longer seemed;
a sweet not being in myself, I saw
every good thing I’d ever want to see;
a sweet pleasure it was, though so intense
that sometimes it would just awaken me:
oh sleep, how much more gentle and delightful
you’d be if you would come so heavily
that with more calm you’d set on me your weight!
For while I slept, in short, I was in bliss,
and it is right that one be blessed in lies
who’s always been in truth unfortunate.
Was this the face that launch’d a thousand ships,
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.
Her lips suck forth my soul: see where it flies!
Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again.
Here will I dwell, for heaven is in these lips,
And all is dross that is not Helena.
I will be Paris, and for love of thee,
Instead of Troy, shall Wittenberg be sack’d;
And I will combat with weak Menelaus,
And wear thy colours on my plumed crest;
Yea, I will wound Achilles in the heel,
And then return to Helen for a kiss.
O, thou art fairer than the evening air
Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars;
Brighter art thou than flaming Jupiter
When he appear’d to hapless Semele;
More lovely than the monarch of the sky
In wanton Arethusa’s azur’d arms;
And none but thou shalt be my paramour!
I look for life in death,
for health in sickness,
for freedom in prison,
a way out from the impasse,
and loyalty in the Judas.
But my destiny, from which I would
never expect anything good,
has decreed with the Gods
that, since I ask for the impossible,
they won’t even give me the possible.
Alas what am I? What use has my life?
I am but a body whose heart’s torn away,
A vain shadow, an object of misery
Who has nothing left but death-in-life.
O my enemies, set your envy all aside;
I’ve no more eagerness for high domain;
I’ve borne too long the burden of my pain
To see your anger swiftly satisfied.
And you, my friends who have loved me so true,
Remember, lacking health and heart and peace,
There is nothing worthwhile that I can do;
Ask only that my misery should cease
And that, being punished in a world like this,
I have my portion in eternal bliss.
Long-felt desires, hopes as long as vain—
sad sighs—slow tears accustomed to run sad
into as many rivers as two eyes could add,
pouring like fountains, endless as the rain—
cruelty beyond humanity, a pain
so hard it makes compassionate stars go mad
with pity: these are the first passions I’ve had.
Do you think love could root in my soul again?
If it arched the great bow back again at me,
licked me again with fire, and stabbed me deep
with the violent worst, as awful as before,
the wounds that cut me everywhere would keep
me shielded, so there would be no place free
for love. It covers me. It can pierce no more.
Troy is burning, black smoke rises up
to the opposing sky, and all the while,
with joy, Juno observes the fire and tears:
a woman’s vengeance, what harsh penalty!
The masses, even in their shrines exposed,
all flee, enveloped by a yellow fright;
congealed blood down the murky Xanthus runs,
and to earth fall high walls of masonry.
The fire from without fuels flames within,
lofty devices falling to the ground,
which now are seen in ruins, shattered, disarmed.
And the harsh cause of so much injury,
while conquered Paris dies engulfed in flames,
of the Greek victor sleeps within the arms.
If trying to hold back this crazy, vain,
impossible and frightening desire,
and if to hide from danger so intense,
convincing myself of what I can’t see,
it does not help to see me as I am,
sometimes courageous, sometimes racked with fear,
in such confusion that I never dare
to guard against the evil deep in me,
how could it help to see the painting of
the famous youth who with his melted wings
in falling, to a sea his name bestowed,
and one of him, whose own madness and fire
he must lament beneath those fabled trees,
and even in the water won’t grow cold.
dirty and ugly they saw me there goes an empty head they said
in fact I am more like an open book there’s much useful stuff
inside this head
o my heart I burn you and if you want I will do more
o my heart you shame me because you like who doesn’t
like you.
neither think nor search too much don’t always be
despondent
the planets are not fixed and life’s not eternal
don’t play with your best friend’s feelings & if people insult
him, ease his mind
who loves you, love him more but if he betrays you, don’t ever
be his friend again
all I’ve had in life is one goat but I’ve written beautiful
quatrains
many are fulfilled through God’s favor yet claim those favors as
their own labors
travel and you’ll get to know people and owe obedience to the
noble
the fathead with the pot-belly sell him for a dime
my heart’s between a hammer & an anvil & that damned
blacksmith has no pity
he keeps hammering & when it cools he kindles the fire
with his bellows
my weak heart can’t bear any pain and by God you are
barbarians
you supported me when I was strong and let me down
when I grew weak
o you who sows the good grain by grain o you who sows
the bad lot by lot
the good multiplies and rises the bad withers and wastes
away
don’t think of this time’s tightness see how wide time is
in God
difficulties wipe out the weak but men wipe out difficulties
I suggest to you devourer of sheep heads throw those
bones in a well
laugh & play with the people but before all shut your
mouth
silence is abundant gold and words destroy good
ambiance
say nothing if you see something and if they ask say
no, no
o friend, be patient hide your burden
sleep naked on thorns wait for a brighter day
the good old days are gone hard ones are here
who dares speak the truth will have his head cut off
don’t get in the saddle before you bridle and tie strong
knots
think twice before you speak or you’ll live to regret it
I made snow into a bed & covered myself with the wind
I made the moon into a lamp & went to sleep in the
starry night
misery should be hidden away & covered under a veil
cover the wound with the skin & the wound will soon heal
As the sweetest diversion that I could ever choose,
Frequently, after dinner, for fear of getting bored,
I take his neck in hand, I touch him, and I stroke,
Till he’s in such a state as to give me delight.
I fall upon my bed and, without letting go,
I grasp him in my arms, I press him to my breast,
And moving hard and fast, all ravished with pleasure,
Amidst a thousand delights I fulfill my desire.
If he sometimes unfortunately happens to slacken,
I erect him with my hand, and right away I strive
To enjoy the delight of such a tender stroking.
Thus my beloved, so long as I pull on his sinew,
Contents and pleases me. Then away from me, softly,
Tired and not sated, I finally withdraw him.
Poets Corner 