Credo I cannot find my way: there is no star In all the shrouded
heavens anywhere; And there is not a whisper in the air Of any living
voice but one so far That I can hear it only as a bar Of lost, imperial
music, played when fair And angel fingers wove, and unaware, Dead leaves
to garlands where no roses are. No, there is not a glimmer, nor a
call, For one that welcomes, welcomes when he fears, The black and awful
chaos of the night; For through it all—above, beyond it all— I know the
far sent message of the years, I feel the coming glory of the light. 1897
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彭翠丽
This poem is a beautiful and profound exploration of the human experience of feeling lost and seeking direction amidst the uncertainties of life. The opening lines paint a vivid picture of despair, with the speaker expressing a sense of being unable to find their way in a world devoid of guiding stars and filled with silence, except for a distant, barely perceptible voice. This voice is likened to a "bar of lost, imperial music," suggesting a nostalgic yearning for something grand and beautiful that has been lost or is out of reach.
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