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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345133" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Letter</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lying in bed this morning, just a year</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Since our first days, I was trying to assess --</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Against my natural caution -- by desire</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And how the fact outdid it, my happiness:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And finding the awkwardness of keeping clear</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Numberless flamingo thoughts and memories,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My dear and dearest husband, in this kind</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of rambling letter, I'll disburse my mind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Technical problems have always given me trouble:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A child stiff at the fiddle, my ear had praise</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And my intention only; so, as was natural,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Coming to verse, I hid my lack of ease</div><div style="margin:10px 0">By writing only as I thought myself able,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Escaped the crash of the bold by salt originalities.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This is one reason for writing far from one's heart;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A better is, that one fears it may be hurt.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">By an inadequate style one fears to cheapen</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Glory, and that it may be blurred if seen</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Through the eye's used centre, not the new margin.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is the hardest thing with love to burn</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And write it down, for what was the real passion</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Left to its own words will seem trivial and thin.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We can in making love look face to face:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In poetry, crooked, and with no embrace.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tolstoy's hero found in his newborn child</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Only another aching, vulnerable part;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And it is true our first joy hundredfold</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Increased our dangers, pricking in every street</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In accidents and wars: yet this is healed</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Not by reason, but with an endurance of delight</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Since our marriage, which, once thoroughly known,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Is known for good, though in time it were gone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You, hopeful baby with the erring toes,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Grew, it seems to me, to a natural pleasure</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the elegant strict machine, from the abstruse</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Science of printing to the rich red and azure</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It plays on hoardings, rusty industrial noise,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All these could add to your inherited treasure:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A poise which many wish for, writing the machine</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Poems of laboured praise, but few attain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And loitered up your childhood to my arms.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I would hold you there for ever, and know</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Certainly now, that though the vacuum looms</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Quotidian dullness, in these beams don't die</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They're wrong who say that happiness never comes</div><div style="margin:10px 0">On earth, that was spread here its crystal sea.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And since you, loiterer, did compose this wonder,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Be with me still, and may God hold his thunder.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anne+Barbara+Ridler">Anne Barbara Ridler</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345133" data-title="A Letter de Anne Barbara Ridler" data-description="Lying in bed this morning, just a year

Since our first days, I was trying to assess --

Against my natural caution -- by desire

And how the fact outdid it, my happiness:

And finding the awkwardness of keeping clear

Numberless flamingo thoughts..."></div>
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