The cloud of yearning has showered.
It never been usual,
There hence,
I split out-
The inner city of my soul-
Made by dreams of an empirical pilgrims,
Unto you-
The dear great essence of my soul.
Togetherness is meant for us-
There forth,
Won't be seeds to plant on the forth summer
Nor flower to bear on the forth harvest season,
Except the mending of our memoir with fidelity.
It been dearly great all along-
Cherish and glamorous
That's how it used to be-
Why though not forth?
' the dear great essence of one's soul' can sure yearn for anything, even the impossible, nearness, togetherness, oneness, absolute merging, the hollowness of being together, even beyond seasons, sowing or watering, weeding of harvesting... yes, such a determination reminds me of 'Resolution and independence ' of wordsworth too. apt diction. God bless. would appreciate your sharp review on my 'shortest epic' just posted. rgds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love your poem Mukelani