I dream about my travels,
through times long gone
and space now allocated
to those young bulls with horns.
A melancholy road ahead
is lined on either side
by fragrant leaves and stems,
with purple petals, moist of dew.
Those are my kindred spirits,
they neither wilt nor ever die,
a comfort should I need to cry.
Herbert - I always associate purple with royalty and awareness. Purple flowers spread love and hope, and I use that image in some of my poems. Beautiful, and pensive piece - sort of a transition into wisdom. Linda
Sometimes it seems the most endearing thoughts come from travels through heartache. Loved this poem of kindred spirit... right to the core of the readers soul. much luv.
Purple, for half-mourning? ... (anyway in my experence 'young bulls' tend to be bullish. I know who is to be preferred, as person and as poet) . A wistful piece, H. My hand to yours, as you extend yours to so many. t xx
And you are more than deserving of such comforting spirits, Herbs. A delicate, moving piece of writing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This morning seems to be the international celebration of the heart! Thanks.