You understand this
Problem when you understand it less:
Don’t believe the words a poet says,
But if this poet is honest,
Love is really about sex—
The reason I was
In love with her, looking back, was
In those years, she was
My sole sex object.
The composer thought he had failed;
His first stab at orchestration
Presented but one theme—
One melody for half an hour?
Yes. This was why his first symphony
Had the sweet urgency of a dream.
In failure, he found his musical success—
You understand the problem
When you understand it less.
Isn’t the pleasure of love
When the heart of wisdom beats
Not in many, but in one?
When I pressed against her heart,
My beloved, my beloved alone,
I burned with God and happiness.
You understand a problem
When you understand it less.