He says he will read another for us.
[LAUGHTER]
Just getting me.
Let's play a game, a little bit at gamble and see what I find.
[LAUGHTER]
That wouldn't do.
[LAUGHTER]
It's called "Riddle in the Garden."
This is a garden of extraordinary lushness
and fruitfulness, a ruined garden on a Mediterranean
island.
My mind is intact but the shapes of the world change.
The peach has released the bough and at last makes
a full confession.
Its pudeur has departed like peach fuzz wiped off,
and we now know how the hot sweetness
of flesh and juice-dark hug the rough peach pit.
We know its most suicidal yearnings.
It wants to suffer extremely.
It loves God, and I warn you, do not touch that plum,
it will burn like a blister.
It'll be on your finger, a blister
and you will put the finger to your lips for relief.
Oh do be careful not to break that soft, gray bulge of fruit
skin of blister, for exposing that inwardness
will increase your pain, for you are part of the world.
You think I am speaking in riddles.
But I am not, for the world means only itself.
Thank you.
[APPLAUSE]