Como dijo un poeta, siempre ̷

V.1-6,15-18
L. M.
Deliverance from despair.
…

the slime of all my yesterdays
rots in the hollow of my skull
and if my stomach would contract
because of some explicable phenome
such as pregnancy or constipation

Tú no tienes nombre.
Tal vez nada lo tenga.
Pero hay tanto humo repartido en e
tanta lluvia inmóvil,
tanto hombre que no puede nacer,

Voy anotando en imágenes:
las entrelíneas de un temblor,
un cociente furtivo de la sombra,
el residuo de un relámpago.
Voy copiando modelos:

¿Dónde está aquella audacia blanca
que imperativa, enérgica y audaz
tiraba un guante al rostro de la M
y este nombre tenía: ¡Siempre Más
La que de pie, la mano en la cader

Heme aquí al borde del espacio y l
Me voy tiernamente como una luz
Hacia el camino de las apariencias
Volveré a sentarme en las rodillas
Una hermosa primavera refrescada p

Aquí te amo.
En los oscuros pinos se desenreda
Fosforece la luna sobre las aguas
Andan días iguales persiguiéndose.
Se desciñe la niebla en danzantes

I never gave a lock of hair away
To a man, Dearest, except this to
Which now upon my fingers thoughtf
I ring out to the full brown lengt
‘Take it.’ My day of youth went y

NOw welcome night, thou night so
that long daies labour doest at la
And all my cares, which cruell lou
Hast sumd in one, and cancelled fo
Spread thy broad wing ouer my loue

Cyriack, whose Grandsire on the R
Of Brittish Themis, with no mean
Pronounc’t and in his volumes taug
Which others at their Barr so oft
To day deep thoughts resolve with

Blessed are the dead that die in t
Rev. 14:13.
Hear what the voice from heav’n pr
For all the pious dead;
Sweet is the savor of their names,

V.20-26
L. M.
Sincerity proved and rewarded.
Lord, thou hast seen my soul since
Hast made thy truth and love appea

V.30,31,34,35,46-50
L. M.
Rejoicing in God.
Just are thy ways, and true thy wo
Great Rock of my secure abode:

Hence, my epistle—skim the Deep—f
Yon smooth expanse to the Teutoni
Haste—lest a friend should grieve
And the Gods grant that nothing t
I will myself invoke the King who

Hark my soul! it is the Lord;
’Tis Thy Saviour, hear His word;
Jesus speaks and speaks to thee,
‘Say poor sinner, lovst thou me?
’I deliver’d thee when bound,

Thus Italy was moved—nor did the
Æneas in his mind less tumult feel
On every side his anxious thought
Restless, unfix’d, not knowing whi
And as a cistern that in brim of b

Johnny Nock, the auctioneer, gold
Spread about him great good cheer
Familiar sight on district roads -
As men, perched high on harvest la

Since we your husband daily see
So jealous out of season,
Phillis, let you and I agree
To make him so with reason.
I’m vex’d to think that every nigh