Harmonium (Stevens)/From the Misery of Don Joost
From the Misery of Don Joost
I have finished my combat with the sun; And my body, the old animal, Knows nothing more.
The powerful seasons bred and killed, And were themselves the genii Of their own ends.
Oh, but the very self of the storm Of sun and slaves, breeding and death, The old animal,
The senses and feeling, the very sound And sight, and all there was of the storm, Knows nothing more.