Saturday, November 26, 2011
[5], from Winter Love, by H.D.
Franz von Vecsey (Vecsey Ferenc) - violinist and composer - Valse Triste
So we were together
though I did not think of you
for ten years;
it is more than ten years
and the long time after;
I was with you in Calypso's cave?
no, no - I had never heard of her,
but I remember the curve of honey-flower
on an old wall, I recall
the honey-flower as I saw it
or seemed to see it
for the first time,
its horn was longer, whiter -
what do I mean?
"bite clear the stem
and suck the honey out,"
a child companion or old grandam
taught me to suck honey
from the honey-flower;
what is Calypso's cave?
that is your grotto, your adventure;
how could I love again, ever?
repetition, repetition, Achilles, Paris, Menelaus?
but you are right, you are right,
there is something left over,
the first unsatisfied desire -
the first time, that first kiss,
the rough stones of a wall,
the fragrance of honey-flowers, the bees,
and how I would have fallen but for a voice,
calling through the brambles
and tangle of bay-berry
and rough broom,
Helen, Helen, come home;
there was a Helen before there was a War,
but who remembers her?
from Hermetic Definition (New Directions, 1972)
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2 comments:
i love the first painting--a quivering room bathe in golden candlelight, two lovers, the unvarnished power and obsession-like effect of music...
i'm doing well.
so observant you are, as always. i love that painting, too - the warm tones attracted me to the piece of music.
i am glad you are well.
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