Va et recherche, mon cher Chénier !
Good old Greeks! They knew
how to intone through ὄψ—
the eye, the face—becoming,
in raptus, elevating bliss—
a speech of sovereign poesy,
and somehow, by a yielding power,
to pass beyond even the hardest
brink of knowledge—
where soft and melting fingerprints
could draw to love a dizzy labyrinth!
O what else is as deadly to a stony cold
as eyes and faces taking light
and shade into their breathing braid,
fanned—descending—into a kiss?
No comments:
Post a Comment