Уоллес Стивенс. Ещё одна плачущая женщина

Another Weeping Woman

Pour the unhappiness out
from your too bitter heart 
which grieving will not sweeten.

Poison grows in this dark
It is in the water of tears
Its black blooms rise.

The magnificent cause of being 
The imagination the one reality 
in this imagine world. 

Leaves you with him for whom 
no phantasy moves, 
And you are perced by a death.