each day a perfect gift
so often left unwrapped
each eye, each face, each heart

o arrogance, o complacence
where humility and patience fail
let me not linger looking on

no, sting me, fling me
into this treasury of days
where humility is so self-righteous
where patience is so proud

o insolence with your rash courage
whirl me, hurl me
into a maelstrom of means

o titled virtue
abstain
let your wintry absence
prepare my perfect dissolution

1979