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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476880" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sometimes The Heart Buries Its Sorrow</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sometimes the heart buries its sorrow <br>like a bell or an hourglass beside the road <br>as if it came upon a dead bird it couldn't name <br>and returned it to the earth like unread mail. <br>There's no gate where I'm going, the air <br>will tremble a bit and that'll be it. Maybe <br>a firefly or two, to liven things up, <br>but no sign of lightning tearing its hair out. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I shall evaporate like a dream someone <br>couldn't remember having, and what seems <br>so crucially significant now shall disappear, <br>disperse, dissipate like smoke from of a fire<br>and all that will remain of this passionate burning <br>will be an odd fragrance among the stars <br>that doesn't arrest the attention of the bees. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And these things of my mother that she gave to me, <br>Blood, flesh, bone, breath and my love of poetry<br>and compassion for the world you need to write it, <br>deeply involved in an unrestricted love affair, <br>will be scattered like urns on the wind as if <br>my ashes had no respect for their individuality.<br>The waterclock ended in a desert of mirages, <br>not the afterlife of an embryo off to a good start.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The death of an art, the extinction of a species, <br>not the fall of a sparrow anyone notices, <br>and I'm not even saying they should if they don't <br>anymore than they feel the loss of a skin cell.<br>Some people prefer umbrellas to wild flowers.<br>Icons of the moon without the dragon. <br>A mouthful of fire to the taste of water.<br>Tigers in a zoo, to the dangers of an open door. <br>It's wrong to make love, music, poetry, colour, <br>compulsory, anymore than you can demand a friend. <br>Got to give time and space to the black swan<br>of a nugget of coal to realize it's a motherlode <br>of diamonds born out of its progressive dissolution. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Translucent effusions of insight into <br>a speculative nothing, a flying carpet of wavelengths <br>unravelling on the loom of the moon, <br>just because the stars have left their genes <br>on a helical stairwell of flypaper like a chromosome, <br>doesn't mean you're a replicant of eternity, <br>or to see the onceness of life in everything <br>it's becoming without consulting you <br>is some kind of exemption you can seek for yourself.<br>Enlightenment isn't a ticket to pass, it's <br>not to see the beauty of the chains in the bliss of delusion.<br>Not to make choirs out of your Maenadic desires. <br>When have you ever not done this, when <br>have you ever not realized you were the summum bonum <br>of your own conspicuous consumption? <br>But who asks you to die before you're dead <br>to sabotage your artistic pursuit of happiness <br>whether you achieve it or not? The absurdity <br>of the search is enough in itself to make it profound. <br>Enlightenment ploughs you back into the ground <br>you came from like grass on the moon<br>and as a bigger fool that I could ever hope to be <br>once said: if the cold doesn't go through your bones once<br>how can there be apricot blossoms in the spring?</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> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=476880" data-title="Sometimes The Heart Buries Its Sorrow de Patrick White" data-description="Sometimes the heart buries its sorrow like a bell or an hourglass beside the road as if it came upon a dead bird it couldn't name and returned it to the earth like unread mail. There's no gate where I'm going, the air will tremble a bit and t..."></div> </div> </div>
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