The Rose Window
In there: the indolent tread of their paws
creates a calm that almost bewilders you;
and then the way that, suddenly, one of the cats
captures your gaze that is straying hither and yon,
takes it, enthralled, into its own great eye--
that gaze which, as if gripped by a whirlpool's
circle, floats for a brief spell, and then
sinks and knows no more of itself--
as this eye, which only appears to rest,
opens and slams shut with a clap like thunder,
and tears your gaze rapt within it into the blood--
just so, the cathedrals' great rose windows
once, long ago, could grip a heart
and tear it out of the darkness to God.
(Translation of Rainer Maria Rilke)
Koppel Interviews Sharon & Arafat
The moon eclipsed by the
Has no effect
On the light of the sun
If the lamp is right next to you, turn it off.
If the lamp is right next to you, turn it on.
Who yokes the Great Matter to some imputation?
How can the rabbit glisten in rain, cleaning her paw?
If she regard you with her clear eye,
How shall you say anything?
What is the Great Matter?
If you say something--
Then is something next to “It”?
Who can bear this weight—so many--
The I, the yoking, the yoked?
Is it this complication, this
Activity, that makes
Spring lily like with
Light leaf edges?
Let the edge cut the tongue, lift a finger ful
Of black loam to the
Copyright © 2004 Jim McCurry