No More Learning

And why can't God be re-made?

Pierrot's Melancholy

On the first day, I drink their bored eyes complete. . .

And I would kiss their feet

To death. Oh, if they'd deign

To take my heart, blood-stained!

Then we talk. . . - it becomes Tenderness,

And finally I offer them friendliness.

Out of tenderness, I offer myself, as brother, guide;

They believe I'm shy,

Wink a soft eye of course:

'One word and I'm yours! '

(I believe it. ) Then the wrinkles I express,

Of the heart, smile into emptiness. . .
And suddenly I surrender the garrison,

Feigning treason!

(A narrow escape! )

At least, she'll write?

No, and I mourn her all that season. . .

- Oh! I've schemes beyond reason!

Who'll tame my heart! Sweet cure. . .

I'm true by nature!

Gentle as a nun!

Come! I'm no Don Juan,

Would it be such a wild adventure

Under the sun?