From "Circulations of the Song" by Robert Duncan
The child I was has been left behind. Those who first loved me have gone on without me. Where they were a door has been left open upon a solitude. In the midst of our revelry I find myself waiting. Every day the sun returns to this place. Time here advances toward another summer. These fruits again darken; these new grapes will be black and heavy hang from their bough. The heat at noon deepens. Sweet and pungent each moment ripens. Every day the sun passes over this valley. Lengthening shadows surround me. All day I waited. I let the sun and shadow pass over me. Here a last clearing of sunlight is left amidst shadows. The darkest shadow falls from my pen as it writes. In this farewell the sun pours over me hot as noon at five o'clock. But in Rumi's text it is dawn. At last he will come for me! "He has climbed over the horizon like the sun," I read. Where have you gone? "He is extinguishing the candles of the stars." Come quickly here where the sun is leaving me, Beloved, for it is time to light the lovely candles again!