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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=509008" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>from The Women At Point Sur</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">XII </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here were new idols again to praise him; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I made them alive; but when they looked up at the face before <br>they had seen it they were drunken and fell down. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have seen and not fallen, I am stronger than the idols, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But my tongue is stone how could I speak him? My blood in my <br>veins is seawater how could it catch fire? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The rock shining dark rays and the rounded </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Crystal the ocean his beam of blackness and silence </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Edged with azure, bordered with voices; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The moon her brittle tranquillity; the great phantoms, the foun- <br>tains of light, the seed of the sky, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Their plaintive splendors whistling to each other: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There is nothing but shines though it shine darkness; nothing but <br>answers; they are caught in the net of their voices </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though the voices be silence; they are woven in the nerve-warp. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">One people, the stars and the people, one structure; the voids <br>between stars, the voids between atoms, and the vacancy </div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the atom in the rings of the spinning demons, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Are full of that weaving; one emptiness, one presence: who had <br>watched all his splendor </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Had known but a little: all his night, but a little. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I made glass puppets to speak of him, they splintered in my hand <br>and have cut me, they are heavy with my blood. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But the jewel-eyed herons have never beheld him </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nor heard; nor the tall owl with cat's ears, the bittern in the <br>willows, the squid in the rock in the silence of the ocean, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The vulture that broods in the pitch of the blue </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And sees the earth globed, her edges dripping into rainbow twi- <br>lights: eyed hungers, blind fragments: I sometime </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Shall fashion images great enough to face him </div><div style="margin:10px 0">A moment and speak while they die. These here have gone mad: <br>but stammer the tragedy you crackled vessels.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robinson+Jeffers">Robinson Jeffers</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=509008" data-title="From The Women At Point Sur de Robinson Jeffers" data-description="XII 

Here were new idols again to praise him; 

I made them alive; but when they looked up at the face before 
they had seen it they were drunken and fell down. 

I have seen and not fallen, I am stronger than the idols, 

But my tongue is stone ..."></div>
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