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Hilda Doolittle (Хильда Дулитл) Fragment Forty Love ... bitter-sweet. SAPPHO 1 Keep love and he wings with his bow, up, mocking us, keep love and he taunts us and escapes. Keep love and he sways apart in another world, outdistancing us. Keep love and he mocks, ah, bitter and sweet, your sweetness is more cruel than your hurt. Honey and salt, fire burst from the rocks to meet fire spilt from Hesperus. Fire darted aloft and met fire: in that moment love entered us. 2 Could Eros be kept? he were prisoned long since and sick with imprisonment; could Eros be kept? others would have broken and crushed out his life. Could Eros be kept? we too sinning, by Kypris, might have prisoned him outright. Could Eros be kept? nay, thank him and the bright goddess that he left us. 3 Ah, love is bitter and sweet, but which is more sweet, the sweetness or the bitterness? none has spoken it. Love is bitter, but can salt taint sea-flowers, grief, happiness? Is it bitter to give back love to your lover if he crave it? Is it bitter to give back love to your lover if he wish it for a new favourite? who can say, or is it sweet? Is it sweet to possess utterly? or is it bitter, bitter as ash? 4 I had thought myself frail; a petal, with light equal on leaf and under-leaf. I had thought myself frail; a lamp, shell, ivory or crust of pearl, about to fall shattered, with flame spent. I cried: “I must perish, I am deserted, an outcast, desperate in this darkness,” (such fire rent me with Hesperus,) then the day broke. 5 What need of a lamp when day lightens us, what need to bind love when love stands with such radiant wings over us? What need-- yet to sing love, love must first shatter us. Hilda Doolittle's other poems: ![]() Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1182 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |