|I wish I knew what you wanted.|
You block the road and won't give me rest.
You pull my lead-rope one way, then the other.
You act cold, my darling!
Do you hear what I say?
Will this night of talking ever end?
Why am I still embarrassed and timid
about you? You are thousands.
You are one.
Quiet, but most articulate.
Your name is Spring.
Your name is wine.
Your name is the nausea
that comes from wine!
You are my doubting
and the lightpoints
in my eyes.
You are every image, and yet
I'm homesick for you.
Can I get there?
Where the deer pounces on the lion,
where the one I'm after's
This drum and these words keep pounding!
Let them both smash through their coverings
-- Version by ,
from a translation by A.J. Arberry,
"Like This", Maypop, 1990