Naturally it is night. <br />Under the overturned lute with its <br />One string I am going my way <br />Which has a strange sound. <br /> <br />This way the dust, that way the dust. <br />I listen to both sides <br />But I keep right on. <br />I remember the leaves sitting in judgment <br />And then winter. <br /> <br />I remember the rain with its bundle of roads. <br />The rain taking all its roads. <br />Nowhere. <br /> <br />Young as I am, old as I am, <br /> <br />I forget tomorrow, the blind man. <br />I forget the life among the buried windows. <br />The eyes in the curtains. <br />The wall <br />Growing through the immortelles. <br />I forget silence <br />The owner of the smile. <br /> <br />This must be what I wanted to be doing, <br />Walking at night between the two deserts, <br />Singing.<br /><br />William Stanley Merwin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/air/
