The future: time's excuse
to frighten us; too vast
a project, too large a morsel
for the heart's mouth.
Future, who won't wait for you?
Everyone is going there.
It suffices you to deepend
the absence that we are.
-RMR
trans. A Poulin
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The man who is not rich now as summer goes
will wait and wait and never be himself.
That man who cannot quietly close his eyes,
certain that there is vision after vision
inside, simply waiting until nighttime
to rise all around him in the darkness --
it's all over for him, he's like an old man.
Nothing else will come; no more days will open,
and everything that does happen will cheat him.
Even you, my God. And you are like a stone
that draws him daily deeper into the depths
-RMR
trans. Robert Bly
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It's an interesting sign of the times that I had to join a website of ill repute to start finding poetry I like.
* - okay, okay... there was some Walt Whitman that I really liked.