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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476471" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>And Should I Recall Whose Eyes</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">And should I recall whose eyes made the stars most beautiful, <br>and set the mindstream that flowed though us aflame with fireflies <br>a moment there and gone and come again like light <br>in the keyholes of the feral cats that prowled the graveyardshift<br>wholly to the top of the broom-swept path up Heartbreak Hill, <br>where the bones of the seven hanged men lay buried<br>in the duff of our childhood legends, a shadow and a name, <br>trying love on shyly like new clothes in the shadows of the pines, <br>where we lay down with the dead on beds of rusty compass needles, <br>out of sight of the windows of the town, how could I not feel, <br>here alone now by the Tay, thousands of miles away, <br>and more years later than it takes to walk a burning bridge, <br>waiting for the flower moon to appear above the horizon, <br>the waterclock in the nightbird's song of longing? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And if I were to say what it was like to be touched by her<br>when she was brave with hunger and my body <br>all loaves and fishs in the innocence of her hands <br>and her breasts and lips magic mushrooms without the flies<br>that swarmed the garbage cans in the back-alleys below, <br>and though it was not wise to begin a new life <br>on the last night of the past we were ending together, <br>like a bell and a cannon that had been melted down <br>from the same dark ore of a life we were cut out of <br>like a wound in a loveletter we left unsigned for one another, <br>because good-bye was harder to write than just to let things go, <br>what words could I use that weren't already <br>denuded of their shining like a windfall<br>of black dwarfs on the windowsills of time, <br>and the stars that night that clung to the sky<br>like bubbles in the evanescence of glass<br>or the grass to our flesh, all washed off now <br>as if they were grime, the quiet patina of time<br>gilding the dust like rainbows on the wings of flies? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And the wind asks, and the water sylphs want to know<br>and the wild willows are holding their breath like a veil<br>and the Tay is pulling a curtain of water aside in its wake<br>to hear about another stranger the earth swallowed <br>like a sacred syllable in the mouth of a snake <br>that envied the waterbirds their wavelengths and wings, <br>and though the skeletal birch and prophetic skulls <br>in the riverbed plead like the end of a dream <br>for one more lullaby in the ghost story of the moonrise, <br>I show them the black pearl of my heart <br>lustrous as hard coal to burn again in the furnace of dawn<br>on the dark side of the moon in partial eclipse<br>as I weep like a dragon for the secrets I keep<br>like myths of origin in the urns of things that are gone<br>like the irrevocable flightfeathers of the words and waterbirds<br>under the lost petals of fire that bloom in the eyes of the flower moon.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Patrick+White">Patrick White</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=476471" data-title="And Should I Recall Whose Eyes de Patrick White" data-description="And should I recall whose eyes made the stars most beautiful, 
and set the mindstream that flowed though us aflame with fireflies 
a moment there and gone and come again like light 
in the keyholes of the feral cats that prowled the graveyardshift..."></div>
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