The colors come together as dismal raysI am the forgotten, the in-between, and the deadThe life I once knew is a dreamy hazeI can’t seem to remember the things I once saidThe people I once knew, I have left behindThat one love, disappeared from my eyesThe place I once lived, I can’t seem to findI hear the others; their fear and their criesI hear a distant voice calling my nameI see a bright light at the end of a hallSomehow I just don’t feel the sameAs I get closer, I begin to fallI open my eyes, and what do I findThe life I forgot, and left behind
I’ve locked myself from the inside outNobody can open the door but meYou never understood what I was aboutIn my silence, I would scream and would shoutWhy is it that you could never seeYou didn’t have the time to understandThe one who thought they knew me bestYou didn’t have the time to hold my handWhat I’ve written now has been thought out and plannedYou do not know me better than the restI made myself invisible to all the remissI’ve never known love, only hateYou turned a blind eye to my painful kissBy the time you see thisIt will be too late
THEY have taken the gable from the roof of clayOn the long swede pile. They have let in the sunTo the white and gold and purple of curled frondsUnsunned. It is a sight more tender-gorgeousAt the wood-corner where Winter moans and dripsThan when, in the Valley of the Tombs of Kings,A boy crawls down into a Pharaoh's tombAnd, first of Christian men, beholds the mummy,God and monkey, chariot and throne and vase,Blue pottery, alabaster, and gold.But dreamless long-dead Amen-hotep lies.This is a dream of Winter, sweet as Spring.
Here is the soundless cypress on the lawn :It listens, listens. Taller trees beyondListen. The moon at the unruffled pondStares. And you sing, you sing.That star-enchanted song falls through the airFrom lawn to lawn down terraces of sound,Darts in white arrows on the shadowed ground ;While all the night you sing.My dreams are flowers to which you are a bee,As all night long I listen, and my brainReceives your song, then loses it againIn moonlight on the lawn.Now is your voice a marble high and white,Then like a mist on fields of paradise ;Now is a raging fire, then is like ice,Then breaks, and it is dawn.
I shall return again; I shall returnTo laugh and love and watch with wonder-eyesAt golden noon the forest fires burn,Wafting their blue-black smoke to sapphire skies.I shall return to loiter by the streamsThat bathe the brown blades of the bending grasses,And realize once more my thousand dreamsOf waters rushing down the mountain passes.I shall return to hear the fiddle and fifeOf village dances, dear delicious tunesThat stir the hidden depths of native life,Stray melodies of dim remembered runes.I shall return, I shall return again,To ease my mind of long, long years of pain.