IV.
At a poet’s grave
He drank darkness
Darkness and silence
From the silence the faint clicking
of the death-watch could be heard
He breathed calmly
And finally saw himself freed
from the torment of being someone else
And finally free,
free to be no one and everyone
Maestro A. said
When you have discovered
that the organ’s deep pedal point
you sense
furthest down there
in the cellar vault of
your own existence
is not the keynote of fear
but is affinity
with every string
that vibrates –
do not attempt to make
wisdom out of this insight
For then it disappears.
The great white song
For a moment the world was whole
And this freedom existed
Like a lone bird above the roofs
I don’t know where
I have been away a long time now
The flowers in the window are drooping
But one of them lives on
more resplendent than ever
The one you planted in my heart
You water it forever with your song
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