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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476811" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Old Sorrow, I've Forgotten Your Name</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Old sorrow, I've forgotten your name, <br>you've been with me so long, pouring <br>the iron in my blood into the heavy bell of a heart <br>that's climbed back up this sad tree of my spine <br>so many times out of the afterlives of my windfall, <br>these sad planets collapsing in on themselves <br>under the decaying weight and water of their own tears <br>from the inside out, and gone to seed<br>like a small fleet of lifeboats in this floating world, <br>trying to make it up out of these watersheds<br>to run the vertical deltas of this autumn orchard <br>whose roots I keep falling upon like a radical place to begin<br>climbing back up toward the stars again, <br>until one night I'll raise my sail <br>like the moonrise of a blossom on the Milky Way<br>and be gone like a ghost ship in the fog of a nautical legend.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Old sorrow, I know you like the smoke of a thousand fires<br>I've danced around alone like the only child<br>of a midnight sun that abandoned me on the threshold <br>of a black hole I orbit like the rain in a broken mirror. <br>Who did you bury that we weep for, what <br>did you aspire to that you were too earthbound to reach, <br>what love of yours was so betrayed when it had <br>its eyes pecked out by the song birds<br>you never sing anymore when the bees <br>are in the locust trees, and the ants are opening <br>the peonies like loveletters from the Pleiades, <br>except there's a wound in your voice the lyrics <br>are bleeding out of like a thorn in the eye of a hurricane rose? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Old sorrow, are you the tears deep down in things, <br>the lachrymae rerum that fill the wishing wells<br>with oceans of disappointment like the run-off<br>of our hopes and dreams descending the world mountain <br>after we'd talked to God like bathyspheres <br>trying to get to the bottom of our tears<br>like glass bubbles in our crystal skulls, <br>our third eyes frozen like the lenses of a telescope <br>fixed on a star above a shipwreck in Arctic ice, <br>looking for a northwest passage out of ourselves <br>toward a mythic Cathay beyond our continental shelves? <br>And what did God have to say that you kept to yourself <br>when you came back down from your tete a tete, <br>and returned your commandments like a library book <br>that was way overdue in Alexandria? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Old sorrow, I can sense in you how many seasons <br>have scarred you like a calendar of crescent moons <br>as you hang like the pine cone of one dolorous note <br>of the silence you sustain like a blues guitar</div><div style="margin:10px 0">ripening in the corner of the room where the spiders <br>are writing music you'll never play like the wind <br>in the hair of the willows down by the Tay River <br>when the black walnuts are floating by <br>like the scorched planets of sunless solar systems. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Old sorrow, I know you like a heavy boot cloyed in the starmud <br>of all these roads we've walked together to get <br>nowhere in particular but wherever we are now<br>in this graveyard of shadows <br>that talk to the stars who have none <br>about how to wash our names and faces off <br>like deathmasks that are tired of trying to light up the darkness <br>like a candle at a black mass at high noon <br>with an eclipse high overhead the flowers won't look at <br>for fear of burning their eyes. Compendious companion, <br>you bend my boughs toward the earth<br>with the low hanging fruit of a giving nature<br>seasoning your inconsolable wisdom with compassion. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Immoveable buddha, are you the ancient echo <br>of the birth pang of life, the groan of sentience <br>being torn up by the roots out of the indwelling forms <br>of things you used to take shelter in like lenses and mirrors <br>you could blow into bubbles of the mind <br>like the multiverse through a keyhole into the abyss of hyperspace? <br>Old sorrow, were you rounded like a shepherd moon <br>in the undertow of time, your teeth blunted <br>like the molars of the asteroids eating stoney wheat<br>growing wild in the starfields of the neolithic grasslands? <br>Sometimes I can feel you possessing my heart and body and mind <br>like the corpse of an ancient ancestor, my spirit <br>like a prophetic skull on the dark side of the moon <br>lamenting the loss of its atmosphere like one of its eyes.<br>Other nights, I look upon you like the ruins<br>of a palace of water that once greened this desert of stars <br>like a Persian gardener that ruled an empire of flowers. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Venerable exile, do you despair of ever <br>finding your way home again through your lion gate <br>or have you encamped like so many other nations <br>to weep like Zion beside the rivers of Babylon? <br>Is your diamond corona occluded by the protocols of coal <br>that sully your face like the memory of darker days ahead? <br>I shall call you, friend, given how long <br>we've known each other like shadows of the valley spirit<br>blinded by the sundials of the unaging mountains of the moon. <br>I shall open my heart like a fire to you <br>and we can share the silence together for hours at a time <br>on long winter nights when the wind is howling outside <br>and there's no need to speak of things <br>that neither of us understand about why<br>the fountains with the deepest watersheds<br>are always sadder than the last of the flowers <br>in a late autumn rain, or the willows along the Tay. <br>Slowest of rivers, you can sit saturnine and soporific, <br>red shifting into the longer wavelengths <br>of the oldest of your dreams, if you still dream yet, <br>and I'll work on a poem in the shipyards of the mindstream <br>that will displace its weight in tears, and hopefully, <br>though you probably know better, keep us both afloat <br>like a paper boat shooting the rapids of a waterclock<br>that's been running a little late like the two of us for light years.</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=476811" data-title="Old Sorrow, I've Forgotten Your Name de Patrick White" data-description="Old sorrow, I've forgotten your name, 
you've been with me so long, pouring 
the iron in my blood into the heavy bell of a heart 
that's climbed back up this sad tree of my spine 
so many times out of the afterlives of my windfall, 
these sad plan..."></div>
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