sed mulier cupido quod dicit amanti,
in vento et rapida scribere oportet acqua
– Catullus, Carm. 70
Write woman’s words on water swift
on wind worn thin with vow.
Here mine are in black on white,
though parchment yellow, vowel shift.
In these poems I dubbed you thou.
You gave me such short shrift.
In our embrace I thought I clutched
the pulse that throbs in veins, no sham
beat which rhyme and feet prolong.
With these words let proof be clinched
sting too can send a dithyramb.
I sought more than paltry song.
Fallen leaves which leave behind
a pang each day renews,
my poems on something bright and quickly
drawn away were better in my mind.
I am through with you, Muse,
now that you are done with me.