Mistakes

The man was sitting on the couch he was speaking

he was listening to his voice he corrected its tone The woman

fixed up her hair before the mirror

Her hair was dyed

The man’s voice was dyed They knew it

The lights went out They kneeled opposite each other and cried

After that they made love on the floor And outside the old

woman knocked the latch of the metal door

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A YOUNG MAN, ARTIST OF THE WORD—

IN HIS TWENTY-FOURTH YEAR

Mind, work as best you can.—

He is wasted by a one sided pleasure.

He is in a nerve-wracking situation.

He kisses the beloved face everyday,

his hands touch the most impeccable contours.

He never loved with such passion.

But the beautiful fulfillment of Eros

is missing; that consummation is missing

which both must desire with the same intensity. 

(They are not equally given to this sensual pleasure.

Only he is completely overcome.)

So he is wasted, and he is completely tense.

On the other hand he has no job; and this makes it worse.

He manages to borrow small sums of money (sometimes

he almost begs for it) and he barely gets by.

He kisses the beloved lips; takes pleasure still

with that exquisite body, but feels that it only consents.

And then he drinks and smokes; drinks and smokes;

and he drags himself to the cafes all day long,

drags in weariness the ache of that beauty.—

Mind, work do the best you can.

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