11-26-2013, 03:45 PM
edit 1 - thanks to Mikeodial for the stanza break suggestions
Let love keep its distance.
Let me delight in the scent of clean laundry.
Let there be sheets to fold, trash to take out,
coffee to make in the mornings, alarm clocks to set.
Let the evening sun wash my walls with gold,
but let love keep its distance.
I will walk in parks on afternoons
which would otherwise be empty, I will walk
and watch the pigeons circling overhead.
There will be no room for eagles.
My life will be crowded with the quotidian,
my life will pass apart from passion.
Not for me the sea-tangled curls of Ariadne,
the sacrifice of Alcestis, the wild rage of Achilles
with its infinity of regret.
Grant me instead
proper piety, and a yearning for a solitary bed.
I will wander in the wide palm of some unnamed lake,
fishing with neither bait nor hook. Let there be a light wind.
Let the clouds be thin. Let there be nothing spectacular.
When evening falls I will sit in an unexceptional house
beside a casual fire, rocking in a rocking chair
that has no past attached to it.
Let there be no full moons for me.
In spring and summer I will watch peonies open
in my garden, in the fall I will gather sweet peas
from the vine, and in winter watch the snow cover all sign
of my most mild efforts. Thus let the years go by, changing only
in the unchanging rotation of the seasons, changing only
in the slant of shadows from the trees. Let the trees grow tall.
Let me never desire more than a clean bathtub and hot water to fill it.
Let me forget the long lament of loneliness.
Let love keep its distance.
***
Let love keep its distance.
Let me delight in the scent of clean laundry.
Let there be sheets to fold, trash to take out,
coffee to make in the mornings, alarm clocks to set.
Let the evening sun wash my walls with gold,
but let love keep its distance.
I will walk in parks on afternoons
which would otherwise be empty, I will walk
and watch the pigeons circling overhead.
There will be no room for eagles.
My life will be crowded with the quotidian,
my life will pass apart from passion.
Not for me the sea-tangled curls of Ariadne,
the sacrifice of Alcestis, the wild rage of Achilles
with its infinity of regret. Grant me instead
proper piety, and a yearning for a solitary bed.
I will wander in the wide palm of some unnamed lake,
fishing with neither bait nor hook. Let there be a light wind.
Let the clouds be thin. Let there be nothing spectacular.
When evening falls I will sit in an unexceptional house
beside a casual fire, rocking in a rocking chair
that has no past attached to it. Let there be no full moons for me.
In spring and summer I will watch peonies open
in my garden, in the fall I will gather sweet peas
from the vine, and in winter watch the snow cover all sign
of my most mild efforts. Thus let the years go by, changing only
in the unchanging rotation of the seasons, changing only
in the slant of shadows from the trees. Let the trees grow tall.
Let me never desire more than a clean bathtub and hot water to fill it.
Let me forget the long lament of loneliness.
Let love keep its distance.
Let love keep its distance.
Let me delight in the scent of clean laundry.
Let there be sheets to fold, trash to take out,
coffee to make in the mornings, alarm clocks to set.
Let the evening sun wash my walls with gold,
but let love keep its distance.
I will walk in parks on afternoons
which would otherwise be empty, I will walk
and watch the pigeons circling overhead.
There will be no room for eagles.
My life will be crowded with the quotidian,
my life will pass apart from passion.
Not for me the sea-tangled curls of Ariadne,
the sacrifice of Alcestis, the wild rage of Achilles
with its infinity of regret.
Grant me instead
proper piety, and a yearning for a solitary bed.
I will wander in the wide palm of some unnamed lake,
fishing with neither bait nor hook. Let there be a light wind.
Let the clouds be thin. Let there be nothing spectacular.
When evening falls I will sit in an unexceptional house
beside a casual fire, rocking in a rocking chair
that has no past attached to it.
Let there be no full moons for me.
In spring and summer I will watch peonies open
in my garden, in the fall I will gather sweet peas
from the vine, and in winter watch the snow cover all sign
of my most mild efforts. Thus let the years go by, changing only
in the unchanging rotation of the seasons, changing only
in the slant of shadows from the trees. Let the trees grow tall.
Let me never desire more than a clean bathtub and hot water to fill it.
Let me forget the long lament of loneliness.
Let love keep its distance.
***
Let love keep its distance.
Let me delight in the scent of clean laundry.
Let there be sheets to fold, trash to take out,
coffee to make in the mornings, alarm clocks to set.
Let the evening sun wash my walls with gold,
but let love keep its distance.
I will walk in parks on afternoons
which would otherwise be empty, I will walk
and watch the pigeons circling overhead.
There will be no room for eagles.
My life will be crowded with the quotidian,
my life will pass apart from passion.
Not for me the sea-tangled curls of Ariadne,
the sacrifice of Alcestis, the wild rage of Achilles
with its infinity of regret. Grant me instead
proper piety, and a yearning for a solitary bed.
I will wander in the wide palm of some unnamed lake,
fishing with neither bait nor hook. Let there be a light wind.
Let the clouds be thin. Let there be nothing spectacular.
When evening falls I will sit in an unexceptional house
beside a casual fire, rocking in a rocking chair
that has no past attached to it. Let there be no full moons for me.
In spring and summer I will watch peonies open
in my garden, in the fall I will gather sweet peas
from the vine, and in winter watch the snow cover all sign
of my most mild efforts. Thus let the years go by, changing only
in the unchanging rotation of the seasons, changing only
in the slant of shadows from the trees. Let the trees grow tall.
Let me never desire more than a clean bathtub and hot water to fill it.
Let me forget the long lament of loneliness.
Let love keep its distance.