Brighter than fireflies upon the Uji River
Are your words in the dark, Beloved.
“To a Husband” by Amy Lowell
Reply
Down by the salley gardens
my love and I did meet;
She passed the salley gardens
with little snow-white feet.
She bid me take love easy,
as the leaves grow on the tree;
But I, being young and foolish,
with her would not agree.
In a field by the river
my love and I did stand,
And on my leaning shoulder
she laid her snow-white hand.
She bid me take life easy,
as the grass grows on the weirs;
But I was young and foolish,
and now am full of tears.
Health, food, air, water, love, and thought… that about covers it.
Sure, why not?
I shall go back again to the bleak shore
And build a little shanty on the sand,
In such a way that the extremest band
Of brittle seaweed will escape my door
But by a yard or two; and nevermore
Shall I return to take you by the hand;
I shall be gone to what I understand,
And happier than I ever was before.
The love that stood a moment in your eyes,
The words that lay a moment on your tongue,
Are one with all that in a moment dies,
A little under-said and over-sung.
But I shall find the sullen rocks and skies
Unchanged from what they were when I was young.
Farewell, thou art too dear for my possessing,
And like enough thou know'st thy estimate.
The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing:
My bonds in thee are all determinate.
For how do I hold thee but by thy granting,
And for that riches where is my deserving?
The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting,
And so my patent back again is swerving.
Thyself thou gav'st, thy own worth then not knowing,
Or me, to whom thou gav'st it, else mistaking;
So thy great gift, upon misprision growing,
Comes home again, on better judgement making.
Thus have I had thee as a dream doth flatter:
In sleep a king, but waking no such matter.
There's something beloved about
an ancient place.
Entropy increases.
Nature devours.
Nothing lasts forever.
Nothing of man can be built of stone
sturdy enough or steel resistant
enough to become ancient
by mere persistence.
It must be loved.
Someone must clean the grass
from the cracks, must scrub
moss & mold, must replace
pieces that slough off...
(& must do it all with tender
craftsmanship.)
I suspect anything ancient
that's higher than my knee
is a Theseus's ship:
rebuilt stone by stone through the ages
until only a wafting idea of the place
remains ancient.