March 2011
14 posts
More I will not ask of thee ,
nor my fate would choose ;
king or conquered let me be ,
live or lose .
Even in rags I am a god ;
fallen , I am divine ;
high I triumph when down-trod ,
long I live when slain .
love did no more begin than love will end ;
where nothing is to breathe to stroll to swim
love is the air the ocean and the land
( do lovers suffer ? all divinities
proudly descending put on deathful flesh :
are lovers glad ? only their smallest joy’s
a universe emerging from a wish )
love is the voice under all silences ,
the hope which has no opposite in fear ;
the strength so strong mere force is feebleness:
the truth more first than sun more last than star
e.e. cummings
that I have never mastered ,
and I fear I never will .” —William S Burroughs