BEAUTIFUL AND DAMNED

Siamo stati cenere

di incendi causati

dai nostri stessi

baci infiammati.

Rinasceremo vento

per disperdere i frammenti,

ci bruceremo ancora

Though I must go, endure not yet 

A breach, but an expansion, 

Like gold to airy thinness beat. 

If they be two, they are two so 

As stiff twin compasses are two; 

Thy soul, the fixed foot, makes no show 

To move, but doth, if the other do. 

And though it in the center sit, 

Yet when the other far doth roam, 

It leans and hearkens after it, 

And grows erect, as that comes home. 

Such wilt thou be to me, who must, 

Like th' other foot, obliquely run; 

Thy firmness makes my circle just, 

And makes me end where I begun.