143 Pas de Deux
The willow and the linden, bent and beaten by the wind,
The heavy beads which glide along and down the weightless thread --
We are obedient to the dictatorship of strings,
When tangled close in the forbidden node of Pas de deux,
When blinded by the midnight with its footlights of the stage.
The linden and the willow, intertwining stubborn boughs,
The beads that cannot move, but grope, along the thread, their ways --
We cannot reach each other, dancing, and we cannot part,
When, trapped in notes, we cannot break the pattern of our steps,
And when the tenderness of eyes is bitter on our lips --
The willow and the linden talking with the signs of scrapes,
The beads in drunken hands of wind that prays of you and me.