Wherever you are,
in any season,
I will come to you
from the flowers
she says, and always
call me
by your native language
lest men
think I am strange
or a woman known
only in books,
I am steady as sky
and no further away,
see me in your own
color, my lips
shape the same myths
you live inside,
whenever you do this
I am with you,
to kiss you often to sleep
or wake you
sudden or gentle,
a mouth
in the middle of things.
~ Robert Kelly ~
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Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
~ William Butler Yeats ~