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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=360300" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Litany</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">This is a litany of lost things,<br>a canon of possessions dispossessed,<br>a photograph, an old address, a key.<br>It is a list of words to memorize<br>or to forget–of amo, amas, amat,<br>the conjugations of a dead tongue<br>in which the final sentence has been spoken.<br>This is the liturgy of rain,<br>falling on mountain, field, and ocean–<br>indifferent, anonymous, complete–<br>of water infinitesimally slow,<br>sifting through rock, pooling in darkness,<br>gathering in springs, then rising without our agency,<br>only to dissolve in mist or cloud or dew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This is a prayer to unbelief,<br>to candles guttering and darkness undivided,<br>to incense drifting into emptiness.<br>It is the smile of a stone Madonna<br>and the silent fury of the consecrated wine,<br>a benediction on the death of a young god,<br>brave and beautiful, rotting on a tree.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This is a litany to earth and ashes,<br>to the dust of roads and vacant rooms,<br>to the fine silt circling in a shaft of sun,<br>settling indifferently on books and beds.<br>This is a prayer to praise what we become,<br>'Dust thou art, to dust thou shalt return.'<br>Savor its taste–the bitterness of earth and ashes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This is a prayer, inchoate and unfinished,<br>for you, my love, my loss, my lesion,<br>a rosary of words to count out time's<br>illusions, all the minutes, hours, days<br>the calendar compounds as if the past<br>existed somewhere–like an inheritance<br>still waiting to be claimed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Until at last it is our litany, mon vieux,<br>my reader, my voyeur, as if the mist<br>steaming from the gorge, this pure paradox,<br>the shattered river rising as it falls–<br>splintering the light, swirling it skyward,<br>neither transparent nor opaque but luminous,<br>even as it vanishes–were not our life.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Dana+Gioia">Dana Gioia</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=360300" data-title="Litany de Dana Gioia" data-description="This is a litany of lost things,
a canon of possessions dispossessed,
a photograph, an old address, a key.
It is a list of words to memorize
or to forget–of amo, amas, amat,
the conjugations of a dead tongue
in which the final sentence has been ..."></div>
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