Elizabeth Bishop - Anaphora lyrics

Each day with so much ceremony begins, with birds, with bells, with whistles from a factory; such white-gold skies our eyes first open on, such brilliant walls that for a moment we wonder 'Where is the music coming from, the energy? The day was meant for what ineffable creature we must have missed? ' Oh promptly he appears and takes his earthly nature instantly, instantly falls victim of long intrigue, a**uming memory and mortal mortal fatigue. More slowly falling into sight and showering into stippled faces, darkening, condensing all his light; in spite of all the dreaming squandered upon him with that look, suffers our uses and abuses, sinks through the drift of bodies, sinks through the drift of cla**es to evening to the beggar in the park who, weary, without lamp or book prepares stupendous studies: the fiery event of every day in endless endless a**ent.