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diff --git a/78702-0.txt b/78702-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..141b168 --- /dev/null +++ b/78702-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1173 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78702 *** + + + + +ARCHWAYS OF LIFE + + + + + ARCHWAYS OF LIFE + + _by_ + + _Mercedes de Acosta_ + + _Author of “Moods,” etc._ + + [Illustration] + + NEW YORK + MOFFAT, YARD AND COMPANY + 1921 + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY + MOFFAT, YARD & COMPANY + + + + + _To_ + A. P. + + + + +_Acknowledgment is made to “Poetry: A Magazine of Verse,” for +permission to reprint some of the poems in this volume._ + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + +FADED PETALS 13 + +SOILED HANDS 14 + +REFLECTION 15 + +LUMBERMEN 16 + +SONNET 17 + +UNPOSSESSED 18 + +UNREALITY 19 + +MAGIC 20 + +PLATITUDES 21 + +A DREAM 22 + +TO VOULETTI 23 + +OCTOBER 28TH 24 + +LIFE’S MIRAGE 25 + +WIND 26 + +GOD’S HAND 27 + +WORDS 29 + +BLINDNESS 30 + +SPRING AND YOU 31 + +WALT WHITMAN 32 + +SURRENDER 33 + +WE THREE 34 + +IN THE WINGS 38 + +INFATUATION 39 + +ALL I ASK 40 + +SYMBOL 41 + +MISUNDERSTANDING 42 + +ENDING 44 + +POETRY 46 + +ATLANTIC CITY 48 + +YOUR FACE 49 + +ILLUSION 50 + +FESTA DEL REDENTORE IN VENICE 51 + +COLOR SYMPHONY 52 + +TO ONE WHO LOVES JEWELS 53 + +FOOTPRINTS 54 + +LIFE AND YOUTH 55 + +POOR FOOLS 58 + +LONGING 59 + +MUSIC 60 + +FLOWERS AND STARS 61 + + + + +ARCHWAYS OF LIFE + + + + + _I am a part of all that I have met. + Yet all experience is an arch wherethro’ + Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades + Forever and forever when I move._ + “ULYSSES.” + + + + +FADED PETALS + + + Come! Let us be friends. + Throw off the cloak of passion + (You wear it far too much) + And though your slightest touch + Has ceased to make me tremble, + There is no reason why-- + We still cannot + Climb our hill together, + And, at twilight’s end, + Call each other “friend.” + The rose tree fades but has its spring and autumn, + And so with love. + But with a rose-- + We gather its faded petals + And in a box of precious metals + We store its fragrance. + Why not with love? + And which is more beautiful-- + Who can say? + A rose in bloom or the fragrance of its petals + In decay! + + + + +SOILED HANDS + + + After everyone had left, + It was always so wonderful sitting in the dark theatre with you. + There was a mystery about it, + As though the echo of many plays + Still lingered in the folds of the curtain, + While phantom figures crouched low in the chairs, + Beating suppressed applause with vapor hands. + Do you remember how we always sat silently? + I would shut my eyes to feel your closeness nearer. + Then slowly and like a ritual + I would take your hand, + And you would laugh a little and say, + “My hands are awfully sticky”--or + “I can’t seem to keep my hands clean in this theatre,” + As if that mattered ... as if that mattered.... + + + + +REFLECTION + + + I, with my back to the window, + Can see bending and swinging trees, + A gay blue patch of the sky + With the corner of a cloud looking in + And you, with your face buried in a rose. + Thus, I have my whole world, + In just this little mirror + Which I hold in the hollow of my hand. + + + + +LUMBERMEN + + + I watch the lumbermen + Winding up the mountain + Between the autumn branches. + I see + + Leaves gold, red, flame and green, + With flashes of faded blue between + Of their overalls. + Straining and pulling + Horses brown and soiled white + Stagger up the mountain side + Before them + Dragging huge and heavy timber. + Down in the valley + I can hear the echo + Of the men’s muffled curses, + And the quick snap + Of long thin whips. + + + + +SONNET + + + I could not wish all pain and grief and fears + Should leave my life and let my heart go free; + For then true love could never stay with me,-- + That deepest love that had its birth in tears. + Smiles come in eyes, while often joy appears + When lovers meet--but deeper than the sea, + With strength that could a thousand chains tear free, + Is love that from gray tragic sorrow rears. + + So, love, but one rare bliss I would aspire: + If you would let me share your grief on earth, + Bear all your loss and take your pain entire-- + Guide your dark way. Let others share your mirth, + I know your gay laughter is not for me-- + But lean on me in grief, when tears flow free. + + + + +UNPOSSESSED + + + Never shall I be all subdued, + Nor the real secret of me understood; + Passionately and violently my body may be possessed, + But my spirit + Always a virgin, + Will wander on forever + Unpossessed! + + + + +UNREALITY + + + From out the window pane I see your face, + Its outline a little vague + In the dimness of the shadow. + But the whiteness of your skin + Is like a clean ship’s sail, + Standing out in the darkness of a night. + And your eyes,--I see them like two golden bowls, + With the rays of a thousand moonbeams sweeping over them. + As I pass out into the blackness, + I wonder if I have ever really known you-- + Or, if you exist at all-- + And are not but a twisted, fevered, silver creation of my brain, + And the unreality of you comes over me, + Like a mist upon a lonely sea. + + + + +MAGIC + + + We, who yesterday were spring, and wine, and flame, to each other, + Today are only two human beings, + Commonplace, and tired; + You vaguely jealous, and I slightly bored.... + But tomorrow-- + Or the next day-- + The Magic may come back again, + And with it Spring, and Wine, and Flame. + + It is for this that I live. + + + + +PLATITUDES + + + Tonight for a second + I almost thought I could love you. + The mystery of the night + And stillness of the wind + Seemed to speak of love + And draw us closer. + There was something sublime + About our silence, + With only the sound of dripping water + As it splashed and fingered the bow of our boat. + I seemed to see you differently, + And for a brief instant + My love wanted to creep down + And kneel at your feet. + Just then you turned and said: + “Isn’t the moon wonderful tonight!” and + “It all seems like a stage setting,” + Then I knew I never could love you! + + + + +A DREAM + + + I remember when the moon cast down a flood + Of gold across my floor and you came through + And held my hand and brought me hope like silver dew. + I remember when your touch stirred my blood + And taught me in a flash to dream of you, + And recklessly I poured your face into my heart + And lodged you there--and you were a part + Of me, before I knew. + + Then we became comrades, we two, + Even before this dream so strange and new + Fastened itself upon my wakeful life, + And from out the chaos and maddening strife + I called to you.... + + And now you do not answer. + + + + +TO VOULETTI + + + There is not a leaf grown, + Not a breeze that’s blown, + Not a sweet fragrant tree + That is not you, to me. + + In the sunlight I feel your smile, + In the moonlight the whole long while, + I feel the pressure of your hand, + And feeling this I understand. + + I understand all sacred things, + The depths of Life, the secret wings + That carry beyond the dreary way, + Turning dark to light, and night to day. + + All things fine, and straight, and true, + I know better because of you, + While your sweetness is like a warm fresh shower, + And your face and soul like a sun-kissed flower. + + + + +OCTOBER 28TH + + + Today is your birthday. + Many people will come to you with offerings, + While I, + Who seemingly know you so slightly, + Yet who truly know you so well, + Must stand aside with empty hands. + If love could make this day perfect, + My love would weave for you + A web enmeshed with all your desires. + On your pathway + I would fling stars for pebbles + And tear down the moon + So that you might wear + The radiance of its silver + In your hair. + But instead-- + I stand outside like a wall + And quite powerless + I send no gift at all. + + + + +LIFE’S MIRAGE + + + I have seen happiness. I have seen a slim figure steal + Across my path, and gathering flowers, laughingly kneel + And strew them on my way.... + Then, but for one brief day, + I have seen them bloom beneath my feet, and fade away. + + I have heard happiness. I have heard its voice, blown through + the trees, + Calling and whispering in soft minor keys; + I have heard the voice of heart’s desire, the voice of Hope, + Chanting melodiously and luring me up the slope + Of Life. + + I have held happiness. Like a grain of sand, + Golden and beautiful, and gathered in my hand. + There, one second--then gone again: + Elusive, transient: all in vain + To try and hold it. + + + + +WIND + + + If I should die, + I would be buried air-tight beneath the ground. + While you-- + Your gold hair blowing in the breeze-- + Would still feel the caress of the wind, + And on your face would steal + A smile. + + If I should die, + My body would be buried air-tight beneath the ground, + But my spirit will wander in the wind + That touches and circles about your face. + Perhaps you will know this-- + And recognizing my touch + For this reason, you will smile.... + + The smile I know and love. + + + + +GOD’S HAND + + + Let me wander back over the mountains, + And facing the sea + Live under the open sky-- + Too long have I been encumbered + With the deceit of man + And his spoken lie. + I wish to die, + Away from petty thoughts + And treacherous ways, + And end my days + Alone. + + I shall sing no sad lament + That no hand guides me; + But rather shall the vision I once have been + Through solitude, make me again the thing I might have been. + The self I lost because I trusted, loved and hoped, + And blinded my eyes with the dust of faith and groped + My way to truth. + + There is no truth in man-- + Only shall I find it + In grasping God’s Hand + That leads my way to hill and tree, + And stamps His Truth upon the sea. + In nature shall I find my life, + Through nature lose the poisoned knife, + That tried to slay me. + In solitude I shall breathe life’s breath, + And breathing life I shall welcome death. + + + + +WORDS + + + Words--words-- + Why are you forever fencing? + And if you must fence + Cannot you use something else + Besides words! + Do you remember the last night? + We talked so madly-- + Words again + And then more words. + It all seemed a tangled net of words. + You were trying to convince me of something + (God knows what) + And I was trying to answer intelligently + And keep my end up. + But somehow and suddenly + Our words meant so little; + Then you leaned forward + And your knee touched mine + And after that my thoughts blurred + And our words meant nothing. + + + + +BLINDNESS + + + Perhaps you are not much-- + And maybe you are heartless + As they say you are-- + And yet, + I shall always try to believe + That you are all the things + That I would have you, + So, that in the end, + I shall not have to know + My love and dreams of you + Have been all in vain + And wasted. + + + + +SPRING AND YOU + + + Today there is a smell of Spring in the air-- + That sad restless note that makes one stretch forth longing hands + Into the heart of Life. + I who used to hate Spring, + Can never hate it again, + Because it has brought me you. + Now, Love and April, and the gold of your hair, + Are all mingled together + Like the blending of an exotic dream plant + With the fragrant perfume of a strange, frail flower. + + + + +WALT WHITMAN + + + I would dare say that you are a superman. + Would fling the words out to the world + And dare him who dares to question it. + I would satiate myself with the art of you; + Would fling aside the talent of the many, + For the gift of the few + Whom you have touched. + In your hands you hold a torch of light, + A message in your being, + While in your eyes-- + Far seeing vision clear and bright. + There is power in your poise, + And magic + In your rhythm, advance and wait. + Drinking in your greatness, + I, myself, am great. + + + + +SURRENDER + + + I will offer all my love + Recklessly, without rest, + And give myself completely + Upon my darling’s breast-- + Our pulses shall beat as one pulse, + And in that sacred breath + I shall feel the touch of Life + Yet know the truth of Death! + + + + +WE THREE + + + There is something that from between us has slipped away and + left me chill, + Something that by its loss has made the world less warm + And made me feel as though the sun rising o’er the purple + dew-touched hill, + Finds its rays cold as it touches the face of dawn. + + Although we kiss and meet the same each day, + You speak my name and I yours and we clasp hands, + Yet from somewhere, I do not know which way, + Stealing between us a lurking figure stands. + + A figure clad in gray.... + To me a dream, a phantom come to steal + My starlight quite away. + To you a gay figure, not strange but real. + + And all the while it lurks and turns, + And from every cell and corner of my brain + I feel its presence and the burns + Even of your kisses cannot make me sane. + + Why should this figure strange and sinister + Keep on coming? Why should she in the night + Breathe words of comfort and administer + Balm to my soul, pointing the way to light? + + While when we meet in the day a dread silence lingers, + A silence chill which with no kindness blends + A word of cheer, or kind touch for my trembling fingers; + No look to prove that we are even friends. + + Sometimes when you call my name I hear a tone + Of her voice within yours, and you say + Things which she will say at night and when alone, + Or what she’s said before just that way. + They say we dream in sleep, but I must dream by day, + Because on waking she is a dream child, nor seems less fair, + Though more cruel than when I left her in my sleep sitting there. + + If I could brush away this vision and start once again, + If I could see sunlight and feel less sad, + If I could only steady the confusion of my brain, + Somewhere, somehow I might again be glad. + And by a laugh or carefree jest, + I might once more call your love from out the past + And hold you closely to my side--lest, + Again between us the figure stand and fast + Would bind my hands and from me turn your face away, + Making once more my day a night and my night a day. + + Ah, love, if we could turn Spring into last Spring again, + Or if I could toss my heart away and make it new; + If I could drink deeply of some draught to ease the pain, + Or become more callous, less kind and far, far less true.... + Less true to ideals, to love and you. + + Perhaps I will, then my brain will cease to ache, + And this sad frenzied chaos I will not prolong; + Then for yours, or mine or hers or each one’s sake, + I will wave farewell to you, singing Love’s Swan Song. + Singing Love’s Swan Song, so that this may truly be, + That never again will false love take hold of me; + I may be mad, but which is the maddest of we three, + Is it you? Or I? Or is it she? + + + + +IN THE WINGS + + + Back in the wings + I remember how I used to stand by your side until you went on. + I remember the darkness and the slow beat of the music-- + And the mad desire in me to hold you always near me. + I remember the weird reflection of the colored spot as it circled + round, + And you gazing intensely at the dancers, + While I watched only the curve of your neck and the way your hair + grew. + You seemed to be always thinking of the dancers, + Or, as you said yourself so often, + “Of nothing at all.” + But I, while standing with my shoulder touching yours, + Or holding your hand-- + Would dream great, wonderful dreams that carried far beyond the + horizon! + + + + +INFATUATION + + + It is not that I shall ever forget + The charm of your face, this I do not fear, + Or the rhythmic sway of your form, nor yet + The melody of the voice I loved to hear. + These things I shall remember. + I shall remember, too, the beauty of your eyes + And the stirring curves of your crimson mouth, + Like lightning storms and wind-swept flaming skies + Set on fire by the hot sun of the South. + I can recall all the words you promised and said, + Your seductive caressing ways and the false kisses you gave to me; + Remembering these I cannot help harboring the dread + That some day I will return, remembering no longer your cruelty. + + + + +ALL I ASK + + + Not caresses, nor the touch of your hand, nor the sweet savor + Of your love, I ask; nor the flavor + Of your lips against mine day by day; + (These joys I could not hope to stay). + They will pass and naught remain, + Except sweet memories, or perhaps the pain + Of their departure. + I could not hope that you would give these things forever, + Nor that our lives in one long dream could pass together; + But when love’s tide has ebbed and after you quite forget, + May there come to you no sad remorse or deep regret + For the things that you have given. + + + + +SYMBOL + + + You are a symbol to me + Of all the better things I might have been, + Of all the best things I still might be, + Of all the wonderful things that are not + But exist somewhere in the God Mind + As yet unborn and unfulfilled-- + These things you are to me. + Then you are Truth and Silence-- + Both the Divine Force and the Great Strength, + And being all these things + You cannot help--being Love! + + + + +MISUNDERSTANDING + + + You have so completely misunderstood me-- + Vainly I have tried to reach you + But always you have turned away. + And yet, + Like a blue flame + Burning hot and fiercely + My faith has ever burned for you. + Through the darkness + Of my loneliness + I have prayed for even small gleams + From the candle of your thoughts-- + I would not pray for love; + But all the while + I would gladly have worn my soul out + To bring you joy. + And more than that.... + Had you asked-- + For you I would have made a plaything + Of my dreams. + + But what does it all matter-- + Why should I care + That you do not love me, + Or that you turn away and despise me? + Since through you I have found inspiration + (All unworthy that you are) + And quite unknowingly you have shown me + The pathway to a star! + + + + +ENDING + + + Life! I am broken, tired, + I have drunk too deep and wandered far-- + And coveted a star. + I have been a rebel + And fought against your laws. I was bent + On wielding you ... but you had me in your firmament + And I never knew. + Now I know-- + I know I cannot beat you, + And he who wants to meet you + Must go _your_ way + Or Perish. + + Life! I am weary, spent, + The sun you gave me was only lent + And now at the end of my day + It has faded and gone away. + I am lonely and grown cold; + Youth is on my brow, yet I am old, + And darkness falls around me. + + Life! I am finished, ended, + But before my way from you I’ve wended, + I only ask one thing. I, who used to ask so much! + (The music has stopped and I feel no touch), + Life! I falter because the way is far too steep + And so in pity just send me ... Sleep! + + + + +POETRY + + + Like a beautiful, frail, seductive woman + Who flings herself across her lover’s couch + And wets his lips with desire-- + So you, too, + Fling and stretch your long, lean, white-limbed body, + Across the couch of Life + And with your lips alluring, + You chant your rhythmic, undulating, euphonious, melodious song, + Into the heart of me. + Vainly I try to tear myself + From the bondage of your voice, + And cast you off-- + But from far away, + And deep down in the long unlived-in and barren valleys of my soul, + I feel the breath of you. + You are like pastures green, + When one has lived forever with face pressed to the sand; + You are like cool, moist rocks with moss between; + You are like shadows of thin cypress trees + Across a moonlit stream-- + Like rippling, twisting, sprays of foam + Across the dark unfathomable sea. + These things you seem to me. + In you, Oh, Poetry, + Lies the power to lift me up, + And mad with frenzied exaltation + To bear my spirit beyond the need of any mortal want. + In you the power + To beat upon my heart strings, + And quivering, with your music, + To toss for me weird, flaming words across my brain, + And hear your rhythm in my soul beat back again. + In you the power to dash me down-- + For in my desire to create a child of yours; + And after infinite toil and labor pain, + To find it deformed, weak, and not worthy of your name. + + + + +ATLANTIC CITY + + + Vulgar houses + And large grotesque hotels, + Thousands of swarming people, + Overfed, disgusting, and fat, + Or pale and sickly; + Creeping along the boardwalk + Or being pushed by sweating niggers + In pigmy houses built on wheels. + Shops filled with gaudy finery-- + Cheap laces, false jewelry, and pink and blue sea salt candy.... + And then more shops, + And million dollar piers + Stretching their sordid hands out toward the horizon, + And reaching down into the depths and sacred blueness of the ocean, + Which, in the face of all such man-built hideousness, + Remains forever, mysterious, + Sublime and beautiful! + + + + +YOUR FACE + + + How glorious is the coming back to your face + After I have seen so many others + All missing something, + And failing me completely. + Faces filled with lust and hatred, + With joy, hope and despair; + Some dripping with greed and others fresh with love-- + But in your face, + I find the consummation or possibility of all these things, + Both good and evil-- + Like a well + With no man capable of measuring its depth. + Mysterious, pathetic, sensitive, strong and weak; + But always exquisite + With a beauty that creates in my heart an aching thing + That penetrates and fires my soul forever. + How glorious is the coming back to your face + After I have seen so many others. + + + + +ILLUSION + + + Last year + Within this door + We stood and dreamed + Great dreams. + I remember the light + In your face, + And the odor of my lilies, + Suffocating and strange. + This year-- + You have gone + And I have ceased to dream. + But my lilies are flowering once more, + And their odor, + In the dusk’s wane, + Creates you, + And our dreams, + All over again. + + + + +FESTA DEL REDENTORE IN VENICE + + + Deep blue water, + Like a dark sapphire; + A thousand swinging lanterns + Reflected in its depths, + And hung from gondolas + Whose blackness makes them forever + True comrades of the night. + Fireworks with spark and light; + Dripping from the skies, + Like thirsty stars + Bending to cool their lips + On Venetian waters. + Near by and far + The echo of a carefree laugh, + The plaintive voices of violins, + And clear songs of living men; + While deep in the shadows + Of beauty and old palaces, + Crouch the ghosts of tears and crime, + And men long centuries dead. + + + + +COLOR SYMPHONY + + + Open wings of sea gulls + And snow peaks are white; + Deep water in ancient slime-lined wells + Is black-- + Great cities are gray, + With dark, gloomy smoke rising to kill the day. + Sunsets are gold + And sometimes red, + While the moon glows silver, + And then instead + Its face seems rose. + But love-- + Love is all colors, + Sometimes black and sometimes red, + Seldom white but again gold-- + Colors of youth and colors old; + Faded colors. + Lavender, green, + With stretches of orange in between. + Love is often a deep rich blue, + Or crimson for blood + With a dark brown hue. + Love is gray + Like twilight’s breath-- + Love--all color symbols of life + Yet, in reality, Death! + + + + +TO ONE WHO LOVES JEWELS + + + I gave you verses of mine + Telling of my sadness + And praising your beauty, + But you tossed the beautiful white sheets + That bore my poems + Disdainfully away from you. + + I gave you my love-- + And more than that, + I gave my dreams by night and day, + But you understood neither + And turned your face away. + + Then I gave you a jewel, + A dark sapphire like the night + With depths in it like the sea, + And for that sapphire alone + You smiled at me. + + + + +FOOTPRINTS + + + Stretching before me the ever-moving but never-changing sea, + Looking so wild and dark with mad white blotches of foam across + its face-- + While I, + A mere grain of sand in the turmoil and winds of Time, + Stand alert and tense, + Gazing forward and wondering and peering into the Future.... + Across the depths of the sea hundreds of centuries roll past, + And along its shores I follow the worn and faded footprints + Of men long since dead. + + + + +LIFE AND YOUTH + + + Through the archways of Life I tread, + Nor do I walk with much less dread, + Because I know + That where I go, + Millions have walked before me. + + I do not feel less pain because ’tis said, + That saints and martyrs and soldiers have bled + For what they gave. + I am not brave + Because of this. + + I weep not less, + Because in distress + Others, perhaps being stronger, have not wept as much; + For Stoics, and tearless people, and because of such + Restraint, I hold not back my tears. + + I borrow not my courage from the crowd. + My heart is heavy and my head is bowed-- + But were I to raise my head high, + And cast my eyes up to the sky, + A star might guide me. + + I cannot be what has been, + I cannot see what’s been seen. + I shape my course, + And gather force, + From what’s to come. + + The future is my golden star, + My inspiration--and from afar, + I see the deeds that may be done, + I watch a race that may be run, + And hold my breath in ecstasy. + + Away! Black shadows of the past, + Stale traditions that hold us fast. + Because they were, + Must we not stir + From off their worn out path? + + I take up the spade of Youth and of Life, + And fling new pebbles on the path, where strife + Has worn the old ones out. + I dig and put to rout, + Old fancies and old doubt. + + Across the world I hear a clear, new note; + The locks are shattered and the chains are smote, + And a moonbeam has fallen across life’s shoulder. + I raise my sword, and like a pioneer soldier, + I sharpen it on the Shield of Hope. + + + + +POOR FOOLS + + + The war is over-- + Once more they think that they may dance, + And make the old-time gilded show, + And drink behind closed doors + Their forbidden, hoarded wine, + And pin jewels upon their breasts. + Dance on, + Poor fools, + Because you do not know + That marching + Over the face of the world + Another Great Army is sweeping! + + + + +LONGING + + + All night long I used to wish that I were dead, + “May I never see another dawn,” I said. + Now I long for dawn the whole night through + Because on waking it brings me--you! + + + + +MUSIC + + + Forever, they are telling me + How futile are your words. + And yet-- + It seems strange the spell you created when you spoke to me. + I would never listen much to what you were saying, + Because I was always hearing just the song in your voice. + Quite ordinary things you would say, + Such as: + “I am really very tired tonight”--or + “I wonder why the curtain is so late?” + Or sometimes you would talk of simple things done during the day. + But to me-- + To me it was all wonderful + Because your voice + Was mellow and low, + And sounded like the muffled pealing + Of some distant old church bell. + + + + +FLOWERS AND STARS + + + Flowers are the stars of earth, + Stars, the flowers of the sky; + But you are both in my heart-- + Flowers and stars till I die. + + + + +Transcriber’s Notes + + + - Italics represented by _underscores_. + + - Small Caps converted to ALL CAPS. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78702 *** |