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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=534104" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>From California</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sunday night in the house.<br>The blinds drawn, the phone dead.<br>The sound of the kettle, the rain.<br>Supper: cheese, celery, bread.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For company, old letters<br>In the same disjointed script.<br>Old love wells up again,<br>All that I thought had slipped</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Through the sieve of long absence<br>Is here with me again:<br>The long stone walls, the green<br>Hillsides renewed with rain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The way you would lick your finger<br>And touch your forehead, the way<br>You hummed a phrase from the flute<br>Sonatas, or turned to say,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Larches--the only conifers<br>That honestly blend with Wales.&quot;<br>I walk with you again<br>Along these settled trails.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It seems I started this poem <br>So many years ago<br>I cannt follow its ending<br>And must begin anew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Blame, some bitterness,<br>I recall there were these.<br>Yet what survives is Bach<br>And a few blackberries</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Something of the &quot;falling starlight&quot;,<br>In the phrase of Wang Wei,<br>Falls on my shadowed self.<br>I thank you that today</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His words are open to me.<br>How much you have inspired<br>You cannot know. The end<br>Left much to be desired.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;There is a comfort in <br>The strength of love.&quot; I quote <br>Another favourite<br>You vouchsafed me. Please note</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The lack of hope or faith:<br>Neither is justified.<br>I have closed out the night.<br>The random rain outside</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Rejuvenates the parched<br>Foothills along the Bay.<br>Anaesthetised by years<br>I think of you today</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Not with impassionedness<br>So much as half a smile<br>To see the weathered past<br>Still worth my present while.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Vikram+Seth">Vikram Seth</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=534104" data-title="From California de Vikram Seth" data-description="Sunday night in the house.
The blinds drawn, the phone dead.
The sound of the kettle, the rain.
Supper: cheese, celery, bread.

For company, old letters
In the same disjointed script.
Old love wells up again,
All that I thought had slipped

Throug..."></div>
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