Do not let me win again, not this time,
Not again. I’ve won too often and know
What winning is about. I do not want to possess;
I do not want to. I will not want you.
Every time a thing is won,
Every time a thing is owned,
Every time a thing is possessed,
It vanishes.
Only the need is perfect, only the wanting.
Tranquillity does not suit me;
I itch for disasters.
I know the seasons; I’m familiar with
Those things that come and go,
Destroy, build up, burn and freeze me.
I’m familiar with opposites
And taste what I can,
But still I stay starving.
It would be easy to blame an age,
Blame fashions that infiltrate and cause
What was thought constant to change.
But what future if I admitted to no dream beyond the one
From which I’m just woken?
Already in the wood the light grass has darkened.
Like a necklace of deaths the flowers hug the ground;
Their scents, once magically known,
Seem now irretrievable.