The House Of Dust: Part 03: 13: The half-shut doors through which we heard that music by Conrad Aiken

The half-shut doors through which we heard that music
Are softly closed. Horns mutter down to silence.
The stars whirl out, the night grows deep.
Darkness settles upon us. A vague refrain
Drowsily teases at the drowsy brain.
In numberless rooms we stretch ourselves and sleep.

Where have we been? What savage chaos of music
Whirls in our dreams?—We suddenly rise in darkness,
Open our eyes, cry out, and sleep once more.
We dream we are numberless sea-waves languidly foaming
A warm white moonlit shore;

Or clouds blown windily over a sky at midnight,
Or chords of music scattered in hurrying darkness,
Or a singing sound of rain . . .
We open our eyes and stare at the coiling darkness,
And enter our dreams again.

by Conrad Aiken

Other poems by 'Conrad Aiken'

Morning Song Of Senlin

A Letter From Li Po

All Lovely Things

Beloved, Let Us Once More Praise The Rain

Chiarascuro: Rose

Discordants

Evening Song Of Senlin

Hatteras Calling

Improvisations: Light And Snow

Music I Heard