I am subdued; Tell mother that my disposition done; The odds are greater Than our will Our eyes are lighter Than glimmers that could enter the heart and fill. I am greatly subdued; My letters to you, friend, are long and weary; The ship seems to sail arduously Of wreckage and wounds it contemplates My hands pull the sailboat’s ropes vigorously But out of redness of wounds they capitulate. I am submissively subdued; My journals, dear brother, are untidy, unclear; In the corner I lie awake And the shore is heavy to bear the agony Out of paper, new sailboats I make And out of demolishment, play I a symphony I am furiously subdued; I apologize for my handwriting, my sister, I have been ill; My building legs speak to me in pain But I tell that my plan is to go well Here, in a solitude, I hear that I am sane My ship is ready; finally do I place the ringing bell. I am all, but subdued; To you, dear love...
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