Lyrics
I hold no title in the Dreamlands;
no lord or master there am I;
only a visitor, tourist, or guest;
but I know the language a little,
and the natives speak with me sometimes,
and I listen every chance I get,
and write down all I can remember,
and repeat what I learn, some of it,
which is to be a poet.
Come see my souvenirs.
These words here, I copied from a scroll of flame, on a high cliff,
where light danced along the mountaintops,
and the stars stood like warriors arrayed against the dawn.
Whenever I reed them, my fingers burn.
And these I found in a gem the size of my fist, that glowed pale blue in the night
If you breathe them as you sleep,
they take you to a cavern cool and deep,
where a river shines in the dark
its water glows in your cupped hands;
and if you drink, it gives clear vision to find your way
Here now, these I found written in water
on the surface of a sea
roiled and stirred
by great flukes
and seaweed beard
and craggy crown
and league-long trident
sloshing ocean
like a narrow tub … … … … ...
by great flukes
and seaweed beard
and craggy crown
and league-long trident
sloshing ocean
like a narrow tub
These fragments
are left of what I heard
to music of pipes playing
deep in the woods
they faded in the distance
but I did not follow
I was afraid
it would not be me
that followed
Names shift in the dreamlands
shapes and faces flow
meanings alter
selves blend or fade
from some roads
there is no returning
unchanged
Things I did not know before visiting
I knew afterward
Things I knew for certain before
I could never be sure of again
People I have met in the Dreamlands
what their waking form was I do not know
one man dark and brooding
another whose brow shone like a star
a woman who laughed and sang of love
another shy and wistful
who turned and ran when I approached … … … … ...
Things I did not know before visiting
I knew afterward
Things I knew for certain before
I could never be sure of again
People I have met in the Dreamlands
what their waking form was I do not know
one man dark and brooding
another whose brow shone like a star
a woman who laughed and sang of love
another shy and wistful
who turned and ran when I approached
Their songs were lovely
heartbreaking and pure
but upon awaking
I did not know their language
and could not write them down … … … … … … ...
Sometimes I flew
black-feathered swift-winged harsh-voiced
to carry messages
a favor for a favor
strange messages
for stranger folk
a rock-sprung shining soldier in a cap
a one-eyed grey-bearded lord
ice-fishers woodsmen and hunters
or creatures of clouded shapes
never quite the same
between instants … … … … … … … … … ...
More happened than I can tell you;
more than I can tell myself.
some things cannot be told;
you must go there yourself.
There is no passport I can give you;
no golden needle or graven plate.
but when you go there,
heed me:
watch carefully;
listen to all you hear;
and upon awaking,
write down
all you can remember
and repeat what you learn…
some of it. ...... … … … … . . . . .
