pickWhat a wonderful journey to the private, inner life of the poet and somehow at the same time to the public, global life of man.
"Tell me everything, chain by chain,
Link by link, and step by step,
Sharpen the knives you hid away,
Thrust them into my chest and into my hands,
Like a torrent of yellow rays,
Like a torrent of buried tigers,
And let me cry, hours, days, years,
Blind ages, stellar centuries."
VIII
and on this sundial the bloodthirsty shadow
Of the condor sails like a black flag.
VII
Everything you were fell away: customs, ragged
Syllables, masks of dazzling light.
But a permanence of stone and word:
The city like a chalice raised in all those hands....
#poemaday
V -La poema entera
....
I plunged my hands in humble aches that would have smothered dying
And nothing did I meet within the wound save wind in gusts
That chilled my cold interstices of soul.
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💔💔💔
IV
irresistible death invited me many times:
It was like salt occulted in the waves
And what its invisible fragrance suggested
Was fragments of wrecks and heights
Or vast structures of wind and snowdrift.
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💗💗💗💗
III
...and not one death, but many deaths, came to each one:
Each day a little death, dust, maggot, lamp
Which was extinguished in the mire of suburbs, a little death of fat wings...
...in the very lair of human pleasure,
Have I wanted to pause and look for the eternal, unfathomable
Truth's filament I'd fingered once in stone, or in the flash a kiss released.
Poem 1
And, like a blind man, I retraced the jasmine
Of our exhausted human spring.
The Heights of Macchu Picchu | 
