I've been reading works by some great modern poets. No doubt big names like T.S Eliot and E.E Cummings are important but it is this particular poem by Donald Davie that totally reaches out and grabs me:
Time Passing, Beloved
Time passing, and the memories of love
Coming back to me, carissima, no more mockingly
Than ever before; time passing, unslackening,
Bitterly, beloved, the memories of love
Coming into the shore.
How will it end? Time passing and our passages of love
As ever, beloved, blind
As ever before; time binding, unbinding
About us; and yet to remember
Never less chastening, nor the flame of love
Less like an ember.
What will become of us? Time
Passing, beloved, and we in a sealed
Assurance unassailed
By memory. How can it end,
This siege of a shore that no misgivings have steeled,
No doubts defend?
Sunday, 26 April 2009
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