But What Avails It To Me
But What Avails It To Me Whose Limbs Are Tied
I’m The Poet Who Had Resumed The Steep Ascent
The Road Ascended Straight Between The Rocks
In Such A Fashion That My Body Screened The Rays
Issued Forth From The Setting Sun
And Said
Come on Behold the fire
Now Touches The High Meridian
I Am One Who Goes Below From Ring To Ring
With This Still Living Man
If I Were Only Lighter By Enough
To Move An Inch Within A Hundred Years
Yet In That Space I Saw The Stars Shine Forth
Mars More Brilliantly Than Usual
And Larger
On The Shore
The Foot Of Night
Is Treading On Morocco
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