Muse

Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels’ hierarchies? and even if one of them pressed me suddenly against his heart: I would be consumed in that overwhelming existence. For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror, which we are still just able to endure… Yes–the springtimes needed you. Often a [...]

Why, if this interval of being can be spent serenely in the form of a laurel, slightly darker than all other green, with tiny waves on the edges of every leaf (like the smile of a breeze)–: why then have to be human–and, escaping from fate, keep longing for fate? . . . Oh not [...]

Angel!:  If I were a place that we didn’t know of, and there, on some unsayable carpet, lovers displayed what they could never bring to mastery here – the bold exploits of their high-flying hearts, their towers of pleasure, their ladders that have long since been standing where there was no ground, leaning just on [...]