aka Zodiac


yet each man kills the thing he loves
by each let this be heard,
some do it with a bitter look,
some with a flattering word,
the coward does it with a kiss,
the brave man with a sword!

some kill their love when they are young,
and some when they are old;
some strangle with the hands of lust,
some with the hands of gold:
the kindest use a knife, because
the dead so soon grow cold.

some love too little, some too long,
some sell, and others buy;
some do the deed with many tears,
and some without a sigh:
for each man kills the thing he loves,
yet each man does not die.




“When I take you to the Valley,
you’ll see the blue hills on the left and the blue hills on the right,
the rainbow and the vineyards under the rainbow late in the rainy season,
and maybe you’ll say,
“There it is, that’s it!”
But I’ll say. “A little farther.”
We’ll go on, I hope,
and you’ll see the roofs of the little towns and the hillsides yellow with wild oats,
a buzzard soaring and a woman singing by the shadows of a creek in the dry season,
and maybe you’ll say,
“Let’s stop here, this is it!”
But I’ll say, “A little farther yet.”
We’ll go on,
and you’ll hear the quail calling on the mountain by the springs of the river,
and looking back you’ll see,
the river running downward through the wild hills behind, below,
and you’ll say,
“Isn’t that the Valley?”
And all I will be able to say is
"Drink this water of the spring,
rest here awhile,
we have a long way yet to go
and I can’t go without you.”