After illness

Category: Poetry
I am healthy again. And my tired brain
Is free of oppressive gloom.
My forehead is damp. As though it covered
With dewdrops at the hour of blooming dawn.
I can see again the world rich with light,
I can hear the living spirits of happiness.
It feels marvelous and I so happy to live.
As if I enter this life for the first time.
And I can see being half awake
The radiant shining of youth, —
The nurse is leaning over me.
And the touch of her hands is tender.
October 1943