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The Nacreous Oughts
21 April 2008
Sonnet 65
Once when they found me, some refrain Quoi faire?
Striking my hands, they say repeatedly
I muttered; although I could hear and see
I knew no one. --I am silent in my chair,
And stronger and more cold is my despair
At last, for I have come into a country
Whose vivid Queen upon no melody
Admits me. Manchmal glaub' ich, ich kann nicht mehr.
Song follows song, the chatterer to the fire
Would follow soon... Deep in Ur's royal pits
Sit still the courtly bodies, a little bowl
By each, attired to voluntary blitz...
In Shub-ad's grave the fingers of a girl
Were touching still, when they found her, the strings of her lyre.
--John Berryman
Once when they found me, some refrain Quoi faire?
Striking my hands, they say repeatedly
I muttered; although I could hear and see
I knew no one. --I am silent in my chair,
And stronger and more cold is my despair
At last, for I have come into a country
Whose vivid Queen upon no melody
Admits me. Manchmal glaub' ich, ich kann nicht mehr.
Song follows song, the chatterer to the fire
Would follow soon... Deep in Ur's royal pits
Sit still the courtly bodies, a little bowl
By each, attired to voluntary blitz...
In Shub-ad's grave the fingers of a girl
Were touching still, when they found her, the strings of her lyre.
--John Berryman