Thursday, December 23, 2010

Give Up All - Sunday, December 19, 2010

Give Up All - Sunday, December 19, 2010

She hated
her real,
her true duty.
in a very romantic streak,
in confusion from what she had cried out,
in confusion at the point of tears
and [that in her fear] she
might give up all thought,
might give up all over [again].

Still speaking French, she gazed with her whole soul.
She thought of taking a tearful voice.

I felt as though the sun rose
on unmistakable evidence;
my fundamental conviction
that the wind
would suddenly subside
the ceiling fall upon me,
[and then] come [to] silence.

If the sun rose
she might happen
to dispose of
such trifles
obvious through light being thrown upon [them].

The torments of
all [her] thought
over the tears
[had] a coarse effect upon me.

I remembered that I thought it was her
and had confessed [in a]
most heated moment,
[that I thought that] she thought I saw everything.
Whoever might give up all thought [in the] end?

Whatever might [have] happened,
she went to the door,
and departed
[as] if, from shutting
the stupid door,
she had confessed.

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