Song

The weight of the world
is love.
Under the burden
of solitude,
under the burden
of dissatisfaction

the weight,
the weight we carry
is love.

Who can deny?
In dreams
it touches the body,
in thought constructs
a miracle,
in imagination
anguishes till born
in human--
looks out of the heart
burning with purity--
for the burden of life
is love,

but we carry the weight wearily,
and so must rest
in the arms of love
at last,
must rest in the arms
of love.

No rest
without love,
no sleep
without dreams
of love-- be mad or chill
obsessed with angels or machines,
the final wish is love
--cannot be bitter, cannot deny,
cannot withhold if denied:

the weight is too heavy

--must give
for no return as thought
is given in solitude
in all the excellence of its excess.

The warm bodies shine together
in the darkness, the hand moves
to the center of the flesh,
the skin trembles in happiness
and the soul comes joyful to the eye--

yes, yes, that's what
I wanted, I always wanted,
I always wanted, to return
to the body where I was born.