Thursday, June 18, 2009

The River Of Bees

In a dream I returned to the river of bees
Five orange trees by the bridge and
Beside two mills my house
Into whose courtyard a blind man followed
The goats and stood singing
Of what was older

Soon it will be fifteen years

He was old he will have fallen into his eyes

I took my eyes
A long way to the calendars
Room after room asking how shall I live

One of the ends is made of streets
One man processions carry through it
Empty bottles their
Images of hope
It was offered to me by name

Once once and once
In the same city I was born
Asking what shall I say

He will have fallen into his mouth
Men think they are better than grass

I return to his voice rising like a forkful of hay

He was old he is not real nothing is real
Nor the noise of death drawing water

We are the echo of the future

On the door it says what to do to survive
But we were not born to survive
Only to live

- W.S. Merwin

4 comments:

jino said...

salamat. tuwing uuwi ako galing trabaho, iniisip ko kung sapat ba ang itutulog ko para may lakas na magtrabaho kinabukasan. nakakalimutan ko na mas refreshing ang mga ngiti ng mga tao sa paligid ko (minsan di ko naiintindihan ang sinasabi ko. pero alam kong isa ka sa mga makakaintindi niyan hehe)
balita?

kuni said...

Hey, just dropped by... :D

http://pwah.multiply.com

kash said...

to thefriendformerlyknownasjin,

salamat. :)

kash said...

kuni,

surreal saturdays yeah?