The Ghent Review Volume1, Number 1, summer 2016 | Page 32

To cast them back at the moon for the sake
Of the spoken and the seen. Beauty is tragic
If no one is there to see it, yet only in vision
Can the heart lie down and be at peace
Therefore take the vision to your heart
And be at peace.
Young man:
Don’t die! Don’t die!
Old man:
But I must, my work is done
I have shown to you what you will show to another
In the giving is the gift and there is nothing else.
Protect what has been placed in your mind
And be faithful to that image. The moon can show
No better face than the face which you have seen.
Whatever the prophecy and the fact
Be faithful to what you have seen and known
And drawn from the world of vision. Be faithful
To that and the rhythms of your blood
And cast them back at the moon
So as to give to beauty the validity of your voice.
Young man:
He is gone, gone into the wind and I am alone
With the memory of a face which troubles my mind
The way the moon troubles this night.
Nothing remains but to give the moon
The validity of a voice and carry with me
Wherever I go the beauty and the grief.
Wherever I go I’ll carry with me the beauty and the grief.
Wherever I go I’ll carry with me the beauty and the grief.

FEBURARY’S LADY
Lady of fire
Of wrought iron craft