Patti Smith predikar

Inlagt i Poesin

Ur Auguries of Innocence, To his daughter, Patti Smith

What is the heart but a small hand,

of agonies? What is the immobile

stag, but a blessing disguised

within the pages of a book?


Little one, set down your hymnal,

rest it upon your knee. Tears

may stain the fragile leaf,

let them fall, let them fall.


Your father has rushed forth in a column mist. Now you seek

him in columns of words, water

and stone. He is here little heart.


The stag fell under the stroke

and into the blackness

so bright as to fold

light. Here. Pressed between


hymn and hymn a perfect thorn,

the spear of your father´s love.

The hart faltered and fell.

The red-skinned hart.


He is the gust that lifts the bit of sail

to press your cheek, wipe the tears.

A bit of sail without moral, turning

like an apron upon a cloud.


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