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luis-harss
American none worth mentioning
Comes a time, south or north to go with the river bends its weighty head to drink late thoughts in bloom of April trees grow fine and shade forgotten moments are the best and last to fade in summer things unsaid grow wings to burn a while the wind blows out the sun in autumn dies
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Aug 10, 2010
Aug 10, 2010 at 9:01 AM UTC
Parting Season
Remembering is what's wrong, always a melancholy song, whether of sad or happy times, they're all the same, when gone.
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Aug 10, 2010
Aug 10, 2010 at 8:54 AM UTC
Remembering
All love must end Lovers are doomed But don't unseal this secret tomb while wedding bells are still in bloom and we lie fast in our small womb
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Aug 10, 2010
Aug 10, 2010 at 5:27 AM UTC
Honeymoon Song
A simple song is always just right to light a candle till a window breaks into paper birds that eat out of your hand
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Aug 10, 2010
Aug 10, 2010 at 5:23 AM UTC
A Simple Song
Father what can he be but a sailmaker braving the winds on the high seas What can he be but a glass blower of birds on lighted wings come home to sleep Father a family ghost knocking to get in What can he be but a face in the window a hand on the door a step melting the snow under the trees
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Aug 10, 2010
Aug 10, 2010 at 5:20 AM UTC
Absent Father
She never spoke but sang to me and blew into her hands. Whatever she hid there I never knew. Cupped in the hollow like a small flame kept alive. Bent over it to see heerself mirrored in the dark. It glowed like embers through her fingers, but I never knew what it was. A bird, I wondered, or a winged bug, and whether its shadowy light meant it had flown away. Until one day, opening her fist, she showed me a burned-out cinder, a tiny corpse of self.
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Feb 10, 2010
Feb 10, 2010 at 9:49 AM UTC
THE BREATH OF LIFE
I came to a place Inever knew But where not knowing Was knowing true. An unknown place Where blind I stood Yet all being strange All things understood, How I cannot say, But where not knowing Was knowing true. A place of bliss And perfect faith And deepest knowledge Of the narrow way, So passing strange No word can be true To what I knew. So bathed in light And strange delight I left my senses, Flew from my life As my spirit soared In that knowing true What no knowledge knew.
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Feb 10, 2010
Feb 10, 2010 at 9:36 AM UTC
my translation of mystic poet Juan de la Cruz
dont say goodbye just remember to take your eyes
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Feb 8, 2010
Feb 8, 2010 at 10:13 AM UTC
goodbye