Rest well freely, in the taverns of time,
From the morning’s glory till the midnight’s chime,
And lips of the night parts and out flows,
Dankest of hues, through its phantom toes.
Ocean, if you were to give, a measure, a ferment, a fruit
of your gifts and destructions, into my hand,
I would choose your far-off repose, your contour of steel
Sweet, I blame you not, for mine the fault was, had I not been made of common
I had climbed the higher heights unclimbed yet, seen the fuller air, the
Here on earth imperfection, there in heaven perfection
Here on earth discontent, there in heaven content
Here on earth disgrace, there in heaven grace
Here on earth disease, there in heaven ease
I have fallen from sky,
Fallen to the ground,
I am the angel of sadness,
Angel of lost hopes,
Angel of lost dreams,
I am a pig,
growing fat and big.
I eat and eat,
I sleep and sleep.
For working hard, I don’t care a bit.
I know, one day I will be sent to a slaughter house
All nature has a feeling: woods, fields, brooks
Are life eternal: and in silence they
Speak happiness beyond the reach of books;
There’s nothing mortal in them; their decay
It is true love because
I put on eyeliner and a concerto and make pungent observations about the great issues of the day
Even when there’s no one here but him,
What is so musical, so nice to hear ?
What is so emotional, to say : ‘ My Dear ‘?
What is so delicious , so sweet ?
What has no smell , but makes appetite ?