we don't know which demon cast
his shadow upon the sleeping poet
the news was brought by a scarecrow
caw-caw, it cried when it perched
coo-coo, the doves of doom echoed
we prepared lentils
to sustain his body
we brought scented fans
to douse him in cedar wood
we lit candles
to shoo away the dark
we hired a nurse
to lift his head to drink
we summoned ghosts
of long lost loves
we prayed prayers
and we sang sacred tunes
we ushered in angels
to wash his feet
we clothed him in clouds
to keep him sanctified
but when he woke
he was shrouded in gloom
we brought in Delilah
to find out the truth
and thus he woke
and firmly spoke:
I am the dark owl of the morning star
I am the petrel of the passage afar
I am a bird of prey that preys
on shadows, doubt, on those who stray
You chase the sun, the moon, your fate
then cleanse yourselves from this day's weight
But I will use my heart for tinder
And write my verse into its cinder
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very intense and dark, like Shakespeare, it reminds me of. Imagery, rhythm, description is vivid and alive to my mind. Ingenious and sublime, I especially loved the last verse. Excellent poem, so glad you shared it! RoseAnn