Волны

           Noneofthoseresonancesandlovelyechoesthatbreakandchimefromnervetonerveinourbreasts,makingwildmusic,falsephrases.Ihavedonewithphrases.

           ’Howmuchbetterissilence;thecoffee-cup,thetable.Howmuchbettertositbymyselflikethesolitarysea-birdthatopensitswingsonthestake.Letmesithereforeverwithbarethings,thiscoffee-cup,thisknife,thisfork,thingsinthemselves,myselfbeingmyself.Donotcomeandworrymewithyourhintsthatitistimetoshuttheshopandbegone.Iwouldwillinglygiveallmymoneythatyoushouldnotdisturbmebutwillletmesitonandon,silent,alone.

           ’Butnowtheheadwaiter,whohasfinishedhisownmeal,appearsandfrowns;hetakeshismufflerfromhispocketandostentatiouslymakesreadytogo.Theymustgo;mustputuptheshutters,mostfoldthetable-cloths,andgiveonebrushwithawetmopunderthetables.

           ’Curseyouthen.HoweverbeatanddonewithitallIam,Imusthaulmyselfup,andfindtheparticularcoatthatbelongstome;mustpushmyarmsintothesleeves;mustmufflemyselfupagainstthenightairandbeoff.I,I,I,tiredasIam,spentasIam,andalmostwornoutwithallthisrubbingofmynosealongthesurfacesofthings,evenI,anelderlymanwhoisgettingratherheavyanddislikesexertion,musttakemyselfoffandcatchsomelasttrain.

           ’AgainIseebeforemetheusualstreet.Thecanopyofcivilizationisburntout.Theskyisdarkaspolishedwhalebone.Butthereisakindlingintheskywhetheroflamplightorofdawn.Thereisastirofsomesort--sparrowsonplanetreessomewherechirping