Taking off my gloves, my hands stop–
what is it?
a memory flits through my mind

translated by Hiroaki Sato

curled up
on your side of the bed
nothing exposed
walls
so high I cannot scale
trenches
so deep I cannot cross
there is nothing to say
that hasn’t been said
and much left unanswered
it will be cold here
tomorrow
but not as cold as
tonight
something died
though long before I noticed
and I will be left alone
to bury it
in the morning

My hands have a gift for art, Master
My language for cursing, my heart for pain
Is death all I get
All I get, Master?

Which way is love, Master
Which way is grief
Is solitude all I get
All I get, Master?

Which way is away, Master
Which way is home
Is longing all I get
All I get, Master?

translated by Şehnaz Tahir-Gürçağlar

What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply,
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone;
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.

The rose
was not searching for the sunrise:
almost eternal on its branch,
it was searching for something else.

The rose
was not searching for darkness or science:
borderline of flesh and dream,
it was searching for something else.

The rose
was not searching for the rose.
Motionless in the sky
it was searching for something else.

translated by Robert Bly

The door is open,
the cricket is singing.
Are you going around naked
in the fields?

Like an immortal water,
going in and out of everything.
Are you going around naked
in the air?

The basil is not asleep,
the ant is busy.
Are you going around naked
in the house?

translated by Robert Bly

Once, when he was younger, he actually believed that he would change the world, but time and experience proved him wrong. And that was part of the reason for his leaving. He thinks he is still looking for something: a place, maybe, to fit in, to be able to kick off his shoes, perhaps get a dog again, and stare out at the sea. Any sea. At water lapping against rock, the sound of seagulls, sand under hıs feet, a clear sky overherad, and peace in his heart.

So there was this frog who hopped out of a pond one day as a lovely young princess was walking by. Because he could talk, he convinced the lovely princess that a curse was upon him. It seems this wicked witch, the frog explained, had, out of jealousy and spite, condemned him to this ugly shape until the day a lovely princess, like herself, would lift the curse by kissing him. Then, and only then, would he be restored to his original shape: that of a handsome, rich, well endowed young prince.

The lovely princess, having been raised on fairy tales, buys into the story, takes the frog into her soft, lily white hands, and kisses him with a passion even she did not know she possessed.

Lo and behold, nothing happens. The frog remains a frog .

The princess blinks, confused, and asks the frog what happened. He shrugs…

there are moments
when the past comes crashing
through the door
like some unruly relative
demanding attention
there are people I’d like to forget
but their ghosts refuse to listen
and they pop up in conversation
some trigger evoking them
collars turned up
cigarettes dangling from lips
hot stuff devils on biceps
eyes hooded, suspicious
they were not good boys
doing things not accepted
by codes other than their own
there is remorse in my heart
for deeds done, witnessed
scars that have faded in time
but still pencil thin lines remain
in places that substitute for a soul
some day atonement beyond what was given
will be expected
and all the good will be stacked up
against the bad
they understood this
did not care one way or the other
not believing in anything beyond the hell
they suffered through
and though there is no pity in my heart