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"I have always had great esteem for the poet. As for the thinker, I find that he leads to a dead end. I have preferred never to enter into an argument with him. It would have served no purpose either for him or for myself."

"...They moved
Obliquely with a dry-wet
Sound, with a glittery wisp
And trickle."

--Sylvia Plath, "Mussel Hunter at Rock Harbor"

Kashmir.

         "Exile

By the sad waters of separation
   Where we have wandered by divers ways,
I have but the shadow and imitation
   Of the old, memorial days.

In music I have no consolation,
   No roses are pale enough for me;
The sound of the waters of separation
   Surpasseth roses and melody.

By the sad waters of separation
   Dimly I hear from an hidden place
The sigh of mine ancient adoration:
   Hardly can I remember your face.

If you be dead, no proclamation
   Sprang to me over the waste, gray sea:
Living, the waters of separation
   Sever for ever your soul from me.

No man knoweth our desolation;
   Memory pales of the old delight;
While the sad waters of separation
   Bear us on to the ultimate night."

--Ernest Dowson

Nothing Else Matters. (Not this one.) And this one is pretty good, too.