quelque jours, dès l’aube, quand Vénus se récuse du ciel
et la lumière d’or de l’est embrasse la terre
je m’asseois et sirote la rosée du matin
et je pense à toi

For we chose this path to walk side-by-side.
And when it widens and when it narrows,
We do not seek shelter or place to hide.

We rise and fall together like the tide.
Kinetic beings in the ebbs and flows.
For we chose this path to walk side-by-side.

And ever moving we cannot elide
The surge of life when pebbles bite the toes.
We do not seek shelter or place to hide.

You found me in my twenties full of pride,
But what was that to what my life now knows?
For we chose this path to walk side-by-side.

The trees cast shadows, you and I have tried.
Your sublime being through your beauty shows.
We do not seek shelter or place to hide.

When you change pace I'll always match your stride.
And live this love and watch it as it grows.
For we chose this path to walk side-by-side.
We do not seek shelter or place to hide.

Was is it you Tenebrous?
Who stopped my eyes from opening up
Who took my sight

I saw before
All the vibrant colors of creation
Now all is darkness
Nothing more

Am I unmade?
Who cannot see his own face in the glass
Yes, for you have unmade the very world with this

And space is nothing
But an enemy to sound
And I am nothing
But an ear to the ground

life's but a walking shadow
a violet in the youth of primy nature
the perfume and suppliance of a minute
    no more
a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard
    no more
forward, not permanent, sweet not lasting
it is a tale told by an idiot full of sound and fury, signifying nothing

In his eight quartet Shostakovich
externalizes his most internal self.
Using his own name
to paint the hellish moodscape of a city disassembled by violence -
    as his own body too
went to war with itself.

That doleful counterpoint of haunting melodies,
lacking all life, vibrato-less,
yet twists into demented dance.
Some demon, puckish, plucking at the strings.
And moves the observer,
uncontrollably,
in time with the music.

the universe was created with you, little one
just as it was with me
that chaogenous, fifteen billion year experiment of emptiness and energy
unraveling in an instant when you first perceived
the beat of your mother’s heart
and your own

and so it expands
not from some fabled point of origin in the middle of space
but from your mind
and with every sensation
becomes more awesome

straw, dunned by driving rain
the frizzle of a watchman unmoving but for the wind
unmoved but for the wind
and by time
as he tends his modest charge