Once I wrote a thing
I thought very beautiful.
I read it later.
Did not understand.
All its meaning was hidden
From me and others.
The virtue of verse
Is that its meaning may be
Completely hidden.
God seems to like it,
Almost always, done that way.
He watches it all
From above. I saw
Also, and sung about it,
And no one heard me,
And no one sang back.
I listened very closely,
And I heard nothing.
I read it again
Much later; and finally,
I understood it.
That you finally understood it, I envy you that.
Maybe I shouldn’t…
I don’t know. The strangest things can be a curse. Of course, your frame of mind can change and it can mean something else altogether again.
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Ah, pay no attention. I’m maundering tonight, my dearest.
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