The nights were fine & fair to me,
The days were shared and blessed.
And yet each moment of clarity
Now seems like carelessness.
I lost my sight, my humble voice –
Now there’s nothing I can touch.
Never trust a man who enjoys
His hopelessness too much.
I try to solve love’s mysteries,
Overplay my delight yet again.
I never enjoy my victories,
I only want to edit them.
And I’m with my little family
And I think about in secret:
They are in the Hall of Longevity,
Or somewhere underneath it.
And in their fine and quiet way
They all withdraw again.
I look on with pride and dismay
At this hysterical man
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