Stand on the highest pavement of the stair -- <br />Lean on a garden urn -- <br />Weave, weave the sunlight in your hair -- <br />Clasp your flowers to you with a pained surprise -- <br />Fling them to the ground and turn <br />With a fugitive resentment in your eyes: <br />But weave, weave the sunlight in your hair. <br /> <br /> <br />So I would have had him leave, <br />So I would have had her stand and grieve, <br />So he would have left <br />As the soul leaves the body torn and bruised, <br />As the mind deserts the body it has used. <br />I should find <br />Some way incomparably light and deft, <br />Some way we both should understand, <br />Simple and faithless as a smile and a shake of the hand. <br /> <br /> <br />She turned away, but with the autumn weather <br />Compelled my imagination many days, <br />Many days and many hours: <br />Her hair over her arms and her arms full of flowers. <br />And I wonder how they should have been together! <br />I should have lost a gesture and a pose. <br />Sometimes these cogitations still amaze <br />The troubled midnight, and the noon's repose.<br /><br />Thomas Stearns Eliot<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/la-figlia-che-piange-the-weeping-girl/
