SONGS OF VOID- XVIII
O My dear,
The vibration of a passion creeps slowly
I turn to set my eyes on a dance on ziggurats,
The vestal virgin never old and tarnished in love
Stirring around me in frenzy in gold spun hair,
A beauty rare beating the tempest on sea
Beams out from the canvas in flashing eyes,
Crazy in love in the city of seven hills
Born from blood of men in a changing world.
O My dear,
The crystal drops of creation in your womb
The seers Christ, Buddha and Confucius
Grew on your lap as angels of feathery wings,
The effulgence of light in their splendor of words
The fastidious monster in men melted in darkness,
The autumn of our relation made our noble homes
We bloomed on our corpses as roses of morning
Bringing fragrance on sparkling eyes of dreams.
O My dear,
We are life, death and rebirth, boundless in vision
We are ignorant to be wise for celestial journey,
We are creators and destroyers to find out truth
We are reborn for a life within a life,
And within it death and rebirth on earth’s bosom
We are buds exploring our fragrance of eternal bliss.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem