Ina Donna Coolbrith (Ина Донна Кулбрит)
Just for a Day
JUST for a day to pat my sorrow by! Forget that summer dies, that roses die, And the swift swallow, circling round the eaves, Leaves us with falling leaves. Forget the sky shall lose its gold; the sea Grow white in tempests; and the long nights be Forlorn of stars, and dreary with the rains Beating against the panes. Forget that change is, and that sorrow is, That souls grow tired, and sweetest memories In time turn bitter, and the one sure friend Is death, that makes an end. Just for a day to put aside the years, Washed clean of wrongs, of sins, of heavy tears, And dream that life is fair, and love a truth, And youth is always youth. That if the swallow goes, 't is for a day, To come again at dawn with merrier lay, Learned in the old fair lands, and the rose brings New splendors with new springs. That God is near, and heaven near, and death So far the young heart scarcely reckoneth The time by years and years, as now by days — And the whole earth is praise. And faith is as a spotless dove, with wings Unclogged with doubt, with many questionings Unanswered; and the heart not yet doth tire Of its own vain desire. Just for a day to put all sad things by, Forget that dreams are dead, that dreams must die — Joy is a breath, and hope a star that sets: Forget, as love forgets!
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