Oh yes, friend! I'm crazy-
that's just the way I am.
I see sounds,
I hear sights,
I taste smells,
I touch not heaven but things from the underworld,
things people do not believe exist,
The kitchen's old-fashioned planter's clock portrays
A smiling moon as it dips down below
Two hemispheres, stars numberless as days,
And peas, tomatoes, onions, as they grow
Under that happy sky; but though the sands
Of time put on this vegetable disguise,
The clock covers its face with long, thin hands.
Another smiling moon begins to rise.
We drift in the small rowboat an hour before
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe,--
Sailed on a river of misty light
Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring-fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we,"
Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels'
hierarchies? and even if one of them suddenly
pressed me against his heart, I would perish
in the embrace of his stronger existence.
For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror
which we are barely able to endure and are awed
because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
Each single angel is terrifying.
And so I force myself, swallow and hold back
the surging call of my dark sobbing.
I made the rising moon go back
behind the shouldering hill,
I raced along the eastern track
till time itself stood still.
The stars swarmed on behind the trees,
but I sped fast at they,
I could have made the sun arise,
and night turn back to day.
a hot day, white light
lime green leaves and roses gleam
in the starlight phase
with its fierce glare everywhere
except long shadows
captives of white heat
as sun shows its true colors
gold sprinkled, dew shimmered,
elusively mountainous night sky;
With the porcelain and mother-of-pearl,
dragonfly wing, china-and-talc,
silvery, glowing moon hung on it.
A milk-gilded veil of clouds
In the stillness of the Christmas Eve silent night,
Colored lights are blinking as the snowflakes fall,
And full of yuletide joy, my eyes behold the sight,
Of the vivid Christmas star, as lovely as I recall!
In the spirit of the season, I say a fervent prayer,
That our planet sees healing, and also lives in love.
Pale moon is shining, as snowflakes dance in midair,
And my path is illumined by a twinkling star above!
White rapids rushing for the falls,
Morgan horses loosed from their stalls,
From fragrant sunsets to nightfalls,
Songbirds answering southern calls.
Precious moments of golden hours,
Butterflies midst cherry flowers,
Rainbow's appearance with colors,
Sun and silver moon encounters,
It came in the blackness of midnight,
A beam in the darkness, glowing white,
And soared to space, above the crowd,
Where scintillating gleam is allowed!
His torch lit the way for many others,
Pursuing his footsteps through the years,
And altered extremely, so much of fate,
So that for destiny they weren't late.