Countering by R. S. Thomas

Then there is the clock's

commentary, the continuing

prose that is the under-current

of all poetry. We listen

to it as, on a desert island,

men do to the subdued

music of their blood in a shell.


Then take my hand that is

of the bone the island

is made of, and looking at

me say what time it is

on love's face, for we have

no business here other than

to disprove certainties the clock knows.


by R. S. Thomas

from Experimenting with an Amen (1986)

Black As The Pupil Of An Eye, Sucking At Light by Marina Tsvetaeva

Black as the pupil of an eye, sucking at light

like the pupil of an eye, I love you, far-sighted night.

 

Give me the voice to sing of you, godmother of every hymn,

you in whose hand lie the brindles of the four winds.

 

Calling on you, extolling you, I am no more than

a shell where the sea-swell goes on roaring.

 

Night! I have looked long enough into human eyes.

Now, emblaze me, make ash of me, black-sun-night!

 

by Марина Ивановна Цветаева (Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva)

(1916)

translated by Robert Chandler