Malte Persson: Errata

One small sad step for man…

Två dikter, två Philip, en och samma måne, tre och ett halvt sekel emellan (apropå månpoesi, alltså):

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Philip Sidney: Astrophil and Stella (31)

With how sad steps, O moon, thou climb'st the skies,
How silently, and with how wan a face,
What may it be, that even in heav'nly place
That busy archer his sharp arrows tries?

Sure if that long with Love acquainted eyes
Can judge of Love, thou feelst a lovers case;
I read it in thy looks, thy languisht grace,
To me that feel the like, thy state descries.

Then evn of fellowship, O moon, tell me
Is constant love deemd there but want of wit?
Are beauties there as proud as here they be?
Do they above love to be loved, and yet

Those lovers scorn whom that Love doth possess?
Do they call Virtue there ungratefulness?

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Philip Larkin: Sad Steps

Groping back to bed after a piss
I part thick curtains, and am startled by
The rapid clouds, the moon's cleanliness.

Four o'clock: wedge-shadowed gardens lie
Under a cavernous, a wind-picked sky.
There's something laughable about this,

The way the moon dashes through clouds that blow
Loosely as cannon-smoke to stand apart
(Stone-coloured light sharpening the roofs below)

High and preposterous and separate —
Lozenge of love! Medallion of art!
O wolves of memory! Immensements! No,

One shivers slightly, looking up there.
The hardness and the brightness and the plain
Far-reaching singleness of that wide stare

Is a reminder of the strength and pain
Of being young; that it can't come again,
But is for others undiminished somewhere.