Through what doors will you enter, through what walls
Will your white sould resume its solitudes?
I count the clockbeats in my mind, the warning trumpet]Reechoing in my heart and hear no answer,
No answer and no cry
And no reply.
On a known hour at an appointed rendezvous
(So destiny has spoken)
Your eloquent feet will sing in the dry grass;
I know their rhythm cruel and sweet
And their presaging beat
On that unknown street.
Surprise will come like a stern robber,
Fear like a jealous pain, and a joy
Come carrying gifts disastrous and rich
Yet I shall miss
That steep abyss.
Where shall I wait, where shall impatience lie,
On what low bed of thorns shall my head rest
Until I meet the uninvited guest,
Will the door open at a secret word
Unknown, unheard?
Shall I run down the world whose strict restraint
Held me too long, whose iron hand has left
Its sharp stigmata on my brows and heart
See I have waited long, the golden lamp I light
Through the expectant night.
(Marya Zaturenska)
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Based on Topics: World Poems, Night Poems, Mind Poems, Joy & Excitement Poems, Pain Poems, Fear Poems, Secrets Poems, Guest Poems, Envy & Jealousy PoemsBased on Keywords: rendezvous, sould, stigmata