Through portico of my elegant house you stalk
With your wild furies, disturbing garlands of fruit
And the fabulous lutes and peacocks, rending the net
Of all decorum which holds the whirlwind back.
Now, rich order of walls is fallen; rooks croak
Above the appalling ruin; in bleak light
Of your stormy eye, magic takes flight
Like a daunted witch, quitting castle when real days break.

Fractured pillars frame prospects of rock;
While you stand heroic in coat and tie, I sit
Composed in Grecian tunic and psyche-knot,
Rooted to your black look, the play turned tragic:
Which such blight wrought on our bankrupt estate,

What ceremony of words can patch the havoc?

1956 Sylvia Plath

  Oh, how desperately I want to live;
 Immortalize the real,
 Personify the faceless,
 Give flesh to the non-existent!
  
 Life’s crushing dream may smother me
 I may suffocate as I dream, -
 And yet a light-hearted youth, perhaps
 Will say of me in time to come:
  
 Let us forgive his gloom – could it be
 That it was really his secret drive?
 “He’s but a child of goodness and light
 He’s but freedom’s triumph!”
  
 (Aleksandr Bolk 05.02.1914) 

BLWYDDYB NEWYDD DA I CHWI OLL A BLESSED 2021 TO YOU ALL