Wednesday, August 12, 2015

For Teresa Stratas

I have not been more glad of writing
Then in watching you
Pouring out Salome's wrath
And heartbreak: it is true
You reached such scalding depths of sorrow
And heights of passion's pain
The devil ran hard from my daughters
And fears to lurk again.
For you unmasked his coiling evils
With your mirror and masque,
More perfect image of his poison,
No one sane could ask.
Such a marvel was your making
That image by my pen,
Though I in justice must be writing
Yet is effort in vain.
But still as artist knowing fear
To climb perfection's height
I think that next time you could use
The honour that I write.
And so I stumble here to find
Some tribute fit to measure
That could touch you in your trials
To find again your treasure.
To rise again such creation
Must prove you twice a star
I am grateful, if I help
To tell you what you are.

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