As though a loverís apparition,
A tempting draft blew on the flame.
And versesí constant repetition
Resounded the authorís name.
The author sat in full confusion,
Which came in honor of his craft.
As though, aghast by an illusion,
The flame was shaken by a draft.
As though a prophet in a crowd,
The candle flame attracted moths.
The verses, that he read aloud,
In molten wax froze on his clothes.
He sat in silence-- eyes unfocused,
They seemed to wander with no aim..
As though converging on a locus,
The moths were soaring to the flame.
As though a dream that would not cease,
A candle burned throughout the night.
He waited calmly, still not pleased
With what appeared before his sight..
He grew his words with a resistance
Against events that had occurred.
As though eternal in existence
A candle burned, a candle burned.