Tanka I
Could I but retrace The winding stairs fate built me. They fell from my feet. Now I stand on the high round. Down beneath height above depth--
Lewis Alexander
Could I but retrace The winding stairs fate built me. They fell from my feet. Now I stand on the high round. Down beneath height above depth--
The speaker longs to retrace the winding staircase that fate built for him, but the stairs have already fallen away beneath his feet. Now he is stranded on a high, rounded perch, looking out at the empty space below.
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