07/01/2006
God (3)
This one is for you, Eve!
I hope that moving to a new place is one of those steps that leads you to the remaining of your life . . .
^^
No, you never will bind him
To your signs and your burdens!
The least chink -he's inside it,
Like the supplest of gymnasts.
By the drawbridges
And flocks in migration,
By the telegraph poles,
God's escaping us.
No, you never will train him
To abide and to share!
He, in feelings' resident slush,
Is a gray floe of ice.
No, you never will catch him
On a thrifty dish, God
Never thrives in the window
Like domestic begonias!
All, beneath the roof's vault,
Were awaiting the builder,
The call. Poets and pilots
- All gave up in despair.
He's the sprint -and he's moving.
The whole volume of stars
Is, from Alpha to Omega,
Just a trace of his cloak.
- Marina Tsvetaeva
15:45 Posted in Blog, Poetry | Permalink | Comments (1) | Email this
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Thank you.
Posted by: Eve | 09/01/2006
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