You Sang What I Feel Leopardi! Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

You sang what I feel Leopardi!
To be, to experience, to suffer
that what makes
the Inner Soul so steeled
and at the same time
yet
accustomed to the pain and solitude!


Outside I hear
the merry people pass,
celebrants of Christmas,
after meals with families,
other humans,
and we,
we sit at tables solitary
and
moisten the dry bread we barely
eat
with tears!


the bells from churches ring
but
every peal is but a peal of pain
a dagger in the heart
that weeps
and clutches as a mother her babe
to her
when both of hunger pine


Though others with more intricacy
opened the human Soul with
experiment and lore
you
in your suffering naivety
opened more doors than them
more wide-immense as the wide
Oceans roar the Inner Soul
under your impress, your feeling
glows:
the hammer of feeling if left to
itself
will dig deep wounds but then
such deep wound reveal
the greatness of the Soul that hurts
the offended Individual Sovereign Will
the beauty of the suffering.


My hands these verses click on the
computer
As you with more aching wrote
letter by letter word by word
unfolding the spring of your
suffering:
so I
so I my noble friend and great Poet Seer!


Our souls have met, have
in this solitude and pain
that haunt me day and night,
day and night haunted,
in these we be kindred souls
we join hands and in that
my soul, my Inner Soul and yours
some consolation feel though mild.


Time will come my noble friend,
Time will come
That the Earth wake and to our
thoughts conjoin herself if it
progress must make and be
walking on par with evolution
free and equal in full liberty:
Then verse and song will flow
As from an ever-deep Artesian well
Then will human to human hands unite
And send together but a common groan
As they their combined strength
commingle in the walk of ever-increase
that evolution and the mass universe ordain.
That Time my friend, my noble friend,
great Poet Seer will your great name
increase hundredfold and more and
yet your merits not be paid:
That Time will war be peace not
because
The humans tired of their wounds
but because brains of humans join
to ban wars and such ills when they
still even without them be so prone
to suffering.
Time will come too my august friend
when spurred by works - if my works
the scythe of oblivion someday avert -
of me will own yet Immortality:
but it will also be an Immortality
of suffering too, pain and anxiety:
and in that they will call to us
and our common thoughts that long,
long before you echoed, then that I
reading your verses joined to suffering
personal and mine
deepened so much the great Soul,
the great Individual Sovereign Will,
that then in your light and my resolution
will
shine resplendent as the Sun from Dawn!