a new day
a new day
Give me hunger,
O you gods that sit and give
The world its orders.
Give me hunger, pain and want,
Shut me out with shame and failure
From your doors of gold and fame,
Give me your shabbiest, weariest hunger!
But leave me a little love,
A voice to speak to me in the day end,
A hand to touch me in the dark room
Breaking the long loneliness.
In the dusk of day-shapes
Blurring the sunset,
One little wandering, western star
Thrust out from the changing shores of shadow.
Let me go to the window,
Watch there the day-shapes of dusk
And wait and know the coming
Of a little love.
from Douglas Moore’s Art of Quotation
the hour late
the glass half empty
the cat asleep
on the bed
and this old man
to the overgrown garden
in the dark
his mind five thousand miles
While the autumn moon is pouring full
On a thousand night-levels among towns and villages,
There meet by chance, south of the river,
Dreaming doubters of a dream. . .
In the trees a wind has startled the birds,
And insects cower from the cold in the grass;
But wayfarers at least have wine
And nothing to fear–till the morning bell.
translated by Witter Bynner & Kiang Kang-hu
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