|
so:text
|
I shall not stop,
I shall not stop
Beneath the moon clothed in white,
Drowning in the morrow
With a fast-beating heart.
You remain mine, when I am aware,
You remain mine, when I am unaware.
There, in the dome of mist,
In the wells of spacious churches,
In festivals
And the glimmering of windows,
The fields of folk-song,
The desperate hum of din,
The departure of ships and wine,
You remain mine.
The shriveled and the fresh stop short,
And the earth stretches forth its head
And pursues us from word to word,
From bird
To bird
I heard from afar,
And when I tried to approach,
You held up your hand.
I heard from afar
And saw the ancient peoples
There, beyond the woods. (en) |
