A magic wrought of dying dreams
A wizard light that creeps and glows;
Painting grey hills and sluggish streams
In tints of gold and rose
Staining with fire the cherry-snow
Lighting our hearts with sudden flame
As if the love of long ago
Back from its ashes came
Rose-flushed and radiant everything
And joy and hope are born anew;
Even the darting swallow's wing
Has caught its glowing hue
Ah! swift it dies from hill and plain...
Be wise dear heart and let me go;
Not love that lit our hearts again -
Only it's afterglow!
Like telling an opal it only looks like love, can only be a stone and watching it die of remorse
Oh how true! I'm ought to have atleast 20 characters to write this comment. But just an 'amazing' would do.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A lovely write with a nice rhythm. I really like how she injects different colors throughout the piece. Helps to create its lovely imagery.