Nero CaroZiv Poems
Hills and dales of ancient land, bleak, barren and glaring
Where my thoughtless, happy hours beguiling childhood strayed,
How the sand with ages of patina on me is warring,
Howl, moan winds of the past above my tufted shade!
No more, gone the days I went out on an April morning
All alone, for my heart was high with the wind sigh
I was a child of the shining meadow, tulips on hill, and willow low in mourning
No cloud on vast blue heaven, just this sapphire eye of the sky.
Now in the windy winter flood of morning in rear
Longing lifted its weight from ...
Is It Gone?
Is it gone? Is it Silent? My pulses beat
What is it a mock trick of the brain
Yet not, I thought I saw her stand
As a shadow, a speechless phantom with awe at my feet
And then like a lightning flashed vanished from the land
She is gone, and heaven start falling in gentle rain
When they should burst violently and drown with deluge storms
Uprooted sturdy trees; blown rocks into air as morsels grain
Turn the earth on its face and call upon it the vexed sea