A moon gate in my wall: собрание стихотворений

493 A Prayer

Oh, Angels of Heaven! Help me,
I tire in the constant strife,
I feel I am growing weaker
With ev'ry fresh battle of life.
Oh, hear my prayer, holy spirits!
I do not want luck or gold,
I ask for a gift divine
That cannot be bought or sold.
Give me the soul of a poet,
That's filled with music and love,
And let my heart stay unspoiled
And pure as the sky above…

25 Dec. 1920

494 My First Speech

I cannot think of something bright
Or something that would fit;
You know, I never had much wit,
I lost it all tonight.
Of course, it's very impolite
Since I've been asked to speak,
But if one's intellect is weak
He never does what's right.
My speech was very short, you see,
And there was nothing to it.
I'm sorry; won't you pardon me?
I really hope I'll do it.

[1921 г.]

495. Chinese Lampshade

I have a pretty little shade
From Lantern street, Beitsing;
It's not so beautifully made,
But, oh, I love the thing!
My friends — they find its colors bright,
It hurts their eyes it seems;
But when it shines on me at night
It speaks of wondrous dream s…
They take me back to places I have known.
To ancient temples I have worshipped in;
They make me smell the incense that was blown
Before the gods and goddesses w ithin…
Upon the lantern's yellow, velvet ray
I travel back, as fast as thought can dare,
Back to a walled-in city far away,
Where lamps like mine are all night long aglare.
The richaws pitter-patter down the street,
A dusty street outside the City wall,
And all you do is — watch the sights you meet,
And hear the noises spreading over all.
Perhaps it's garish, and the colors severe,
But I forget the beauty you all know
For just a glimpse of lanterns over there —
In old Beitsing, the place where I would go.

[1921 г.]

496. «I bought a frame to fit..»

I bought a frame to fit
a dream I dreamt one night —
that I could often sit
and revel in the sight.

I put it in — but then

it vanished from the frame,
and never more again
I dreamt it just the same.

I got a jar of glass

to keep a lovely flower;
I placed it there — alas,
it wilted in an hour.

I saw a human soul

and gave that soul a song
But now I know its dole:
it will not live there long.

[1921 г.]

497. To October 1922

Why do you leave me, when I loved you so?
Where did you come from? Whither you go?
And, far outside the lives and worlds of men,
Tell me, my friend, may we not meet again?

[1922 г.]

498. «She said, when she had read his book…» [231]

Frances Johnson