Favored by fate to be your servant,
Caught up and devoted, the boy—
What could he do but follow you?
Later, as a youth, lovesick, he knew
What your power meant, and served it
Regardless, like nothing else in his life.
One day, though, a man, he asked himself:
What had this long servitude earned him,
Who envied this man’s liberty, that man’s luck?
And he tried being only himself, to serve you
No more and live for himself, like other men.
You left him, like a child, to his whims.
Afterward, utterly in want without you,
To the call of your voice, or his dream of it,
Aroused in his servitude, he answered: “My Lady.”
STILL ONE MOMENT
The sea grayish and green;
The air also, swaddling it.
In his heaven, God rains.
From a Japanese pine’s
Branch, warbling springs up:
A bird back in its nest now.
Go in; it’s late. The waves,
Swelling with shadows,
Slowly wipe the beach clean.
Now, at the wide-open window,
You stand, still not knowing
What you’re waiting for.