I have dreamt
I have dreamt that I would sing the way I’m feeling,
how I hate and how I love, how I curse and how I pray,
how in madness from my friends I’m always fleeing,
and in darkness to the unknown one pray.
I have dreamt one day a song I would be singing
of all the souls’ worst terrors, of all that lights the sky,
of when I see the whole world dancing, swinging
and shaking in a frenzied hue and cry.
I have dreamt that when all stars above are shining
over wilderness that whispers what in loneliness has passed,
that winds which round the woodland lakes are whining
would teach me how in song to hold things fast.
I have dreamt that a tiny, tiny woman
with lullabies would rock me, with laughter soothe my plight,
and when all I’d built must burn she’d come and
join me in that fire’s baptismal night.
I have thought that all the swift years of my lifetime,
which have killed what I have loved, have stolen what I’ve owned,
would perhaps teach me a song, one of the springtime
that has dwelt in me and blinded me and gone.
I’ve believed that all the storms so long rampaging
through my soul would blend to form a senseless song.
That where I’ve stumbled over hell, with terror raging,
I would come to learn its grim songs before long.
But look, my sundial soon noon will be showing
and never have I sung what my heart’s prayed for yet!
Will I first sing when shades of death start growing,
when endless darkness I have seen ahead?
Must I live till I have forging skills for linking
all roses and all fears into a living chain
which will tremble like a drunkard and start slinking
like a bowed note down in death’s dark domain?
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