【詩篇欣賞】The Rhythm by Robert Creeley

The Rhythm by Robert Creeley

It is all a rhythm,

from the shutting 

door, to the window

opening,

the seasons, the sun's 

light, the moon,

the oceans, the

growing of things,

the mind in men

personal, recurring

in them again,

thinking the end

is not the end, the

time returning,

themselves dead but

someone else coming.

If in death I am dead,

then in life also

dying, dying...

And the women cry and die.

The little children

grown only to old men.

The grass dries,

the force goes.

But is met by another

returning, oh not mine,

not mine, and

in turn dies.

The rhythm which projects

from itself continuity

bending all to its force

from window to door,

from ceiling to floor,

light at the opening,

dark at the closing.