in the boatman steering between them
and for one moment
I was in love with the world
in a way that I had not been before
even the fruit, the shrivelled and ripeless ones
held possibilities,
verbs and nouns abounded
the self was fair
and there was no burden
a moment in which I fell into faith
and uttered, what seemed to me,
a prayer or a riddle
though the held the same intention-
a gratitude for such beauty as was
visible among the shades.
Pauper that I am
I cannot escape the beauty of the world.
I forgive the boatman his reluctance.
I forgive the cities which do not match my expectations.
I forgive Greece its history of blood and revenge
while retaining from it
the purest form of words the chorus utters
in which the self fuses
with the Other
in which the mouth
has perfect words
and all action is determined by this.
O yes, I tell this endlessly and do not care
if I repeat the same facts over and over
there was Greece and there was Venice
the boatmen were handsome but indifferent
to my needs and let me tell you something else now,
it was something I secretly approved of.
My life a move upon a board of Go
