Every so often he vows to start a better life.
But when night comes with her own counsels,
with her compromises, and with her promises;
but when night comes with her own power
of the body that wants and demands, he returns,
forlorn, to the same fatal joy.

Man may escape from rope and gun;
Nay, some have out-liv'd the doctor's pill;
Who takes a woman must be undone,
That basilisk is sure to kill.
The fly that sips treacle is lost in the sweets,
So he that tastes woman, woman, woman,
He that tastes woman, ruin meets.

Give up imagining that the skill of killing desire,
and meditating on the Self are too costly to buy;
He stands close by you! Do not look for Him far away.
The void was dissolved in the Void!

'He prayeth best who loveth best
All things, both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.'

He made no promise, yet
Wondering if he'll come, I wait,
In the early evening;
If only it would stay this way,
Remaining light…

He is angry, him I'll chase,
by collor I'll catch hold of him
on dooms day, I'll hold thee by thy robe;
without thee, here I die

He had served eighty masters. They'd have said
He 'worked for these employers' to earn bread.
And they, if they had heard him, would have sneered
To brand him inefficient whom they feared.
For to know eighty masters is to know
What sort of thing men who are masters grow.

He did love three things in this world:
Choir chants at vespers, albino peacocks,
And worn, weathered maps of America.
And he did not love children crying,
Or tea served with raspberries,
Or woman's hysteria.
...And I was his wife.

He came to see me
and left saying
see me.

Having slept, the cat gets up,
yawns, goes out
to make love.


Translated by Robert Hass