Geoffrey Hill - Mercian Hymns: X [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

He adored the desk, its brown-oak inlaid with ebony, assorted      prize pens, the seals of gold and base metal into which he had      sunk his name.

It was there that he drew upon grievances from the people;      attended to signatures and retributions; forgave the
     death-howls of his rival. And there he exchanged gifts with the      Muse of History.

What should a man make of remorse, that it might profit his soul?      Tell me. Tell everything to Mother, darling, and God bless.

He swayed in sunlight, in mild dreams. He tested the little pears.      He smeared catmint on his palm for his cat Smut to lick. He      wept, attempting to master ancilla and servus.