The 3rd One's Hand In Love.
The stony hungry home,
Bereft of minion there,
In irons with a swine,
The approved cave whines.
The wistful zeal, dreams,
Rolling play of waves,
From lonely, lonely cave,
And the eyes fly to the stars,
For an ancient alchemy’s touch.
The unsaid, unfathomed, colossal impossible,
Teases tinged breezes of hope peeped blossoms,
And she, like a blue be, shakes off stony- home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem