The Isaiah Berlin Virtual Library |
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The doorbell a tocsin tolling
as if the Huns were at the gate
told nothing that was not foretold
in this room and on this date
when the stranger turned left from the bridge
along the Fontanka and knew
the gates by the iron lions
that growled and let him through
Who shadowed him Lachesis
the Eumenides knowing what now
I know and do not know where they
have taken you and if But how
gladly I heard his step
on the stair his touch on the bell
as shy as a boy's fingertip
touching his first girl
He brought me no lilac no ring
but something more precious than love
As the terrible downpour ceased
he brought me like Noah's dove
a green word out of the blue
A Russian bird rinsing the air
of its thunder and ash and if
he flew off he returned later
and Europe again put out her leaves
behind my Amedeo's head
the drawing on his knee my wall
Modigliani famous dead
He brought me leaves and he brought
me stone He brought me Salomé
back from the dim pharaonic vault
of the Stray Dog cabaret
and up it seemed the deeper stairs
those others had descended who
as memory turned the key
came at her shadow trooping through
the hall to meet the guest whom I
admitted to the Masquerade
when destiny called the tune
But whose was the tune I played
the music to which we moved
in the candlelight pouring wine
dividing between us the clutch
of potatoes your hand and mine
and his hand with a cigar
conducting Something by Mozart
Donna Anna dreams a dream
Footsteps and the dreams depart
He brought me leaves and he brought
me stone a guest of stone
to drag you from the candlelight
Now Donna Anna sits alone
and will do what must be done
if you in some cage tonight
are to lie beyond the range
of the poem's fatal flight
Let it be lettered in flame
translated into air
to be printed and reprinted
anytime anywhere
under roof or under stars
on the one press that survives
the listeners the watchers
the searchers with their knives.
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The Isaiah Berlin Virtual Library |