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lirik lagu may sarton - my sisters, o my sisters

“nous qui voulions poser, image ineffaçable
comme un delta divin nortre main sur le sable”
~ anna de noailles

dorothy wordsworth, dying, did not want to read
“i am too busy with my own feelings,” she said
and all women who have wanted to break out
of the prison of consciousness to sing or shout
are strange monsters who renounce the treasure
of their silence for a curious devouring pleasure
d~ckinson, rossetti, sappho – they all know it
something is lost, strained, unforgiven in the poet
she abdicates from life or like george sand
suffers from the mortality in an immortal hand
loves too much, spends a whole life to discover
she was born a good grandmother, not a good lover
too powerful for men: madame de stael. too sensitive:
madame de sevigne who burdened where she meant to give
delicate as that burden was and so supremely lovely
it was too heavy for her daughter, much too heavy
only when she built inward in a fearful isolation
did any one succeed or learn to fuse emotion
with thought. only when she renounced did emily
begin in the fierce lonely light to learn to be
only in the extremity of spirit and the flesh
and in renouncing passion did sappho come to bless
only in the farewells or in old age does sanity
shine through the crimson stains of their mortality
and now we who are writing women and strange monsters
still search our hearts to find the difficult answers
still hope that we may learn to lay our hands
more gently and more subtly on the burning sands
to be through what we make more simply human
to come to the deep place where poet becomes a woman
where nothing has to be renounced or given over
in the pure light that shines out from the lover
in the pure light that brings forth fruit and flower
and that great sanity, that sun, the feminine power

- lirik lagu may sarton

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