Whose dreams

ON THE ONE HAND…

 

 

Whose dreams these are I do not know,
     nor why they haunt me so.
They come at night and cry to me
     and stay when I say go.

 

Though I insist, they resist loudly,
     then act quite shy and flee;
and I am left to ponder whence
     they came.  If I were free

of them -- and hence need no defense
     against these dreams' pretense
of being mine …  Another mind,
     immense, must have the sense

to conjure up such dreams and find
     this method that combined
all my wit with hers?  Such that themes
     of hers now stream behind

mine eyes and her desires now seem
     to be my own …  and beams
within, awry with her sweet scream:
     my soul caught in her schemes.

 

 

… BUT ON THE OTHER

 

 

Whose dreams these are I do not know, nor why
they haunt me so.  They come at night and cry
to me and stay when I say go.  Though I
insist, they resist loudly, then act quite shy
and flee; and I am left to ponder whence
they came. If I were free of them -- and hence
need no defense against these dreams' pretense
of being mine …  Another mind, immense,
must have the sense to conjure up such dreams
and find this method that combined all my
wit with hers?  Such that themes of hers now stream
behind mine eyes and her desires now seem
to be my own …  and beams within, awry
with her sweet scream: my soul caught in her schemes.