Nero CaroZiv Poems

Often in my childhood I had seen a lonesome boy
He lived across a road from my house near a field wild,
I chanced to see him at break of summer day; shy and coy
He was the solitary kind of child.
...

Flow down, cold distilled rivulets never make it to the sea,
Your tribute waves into my childhood memories deliver:
Yet, no more by thee my old forgotten steps shall be,
For ever, and never again for ever.
...

You have stormed into my life
You have stolen from me the fire so suddenly without a strife
From the fountains of the past
Left me with none for all others craving lust
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Death is not kind, and there can be no returning,
No one came back from there to sweet earth in some fragrant night,
And no one recovered to take these lanes to find the sea, and bending
Again to breathe the same honeysuckle, low and white.
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Once, how much we loved each other, never to be parted
We swore that our love would never lessen and would never fade or go
We were young then, proud and fresh-hearted,
We were too naive to understand the fickle ways of life, too young to know.
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My creeping, crabbing Age and my far sailing Youth
Antagonists to each other, like two foes beyond any measure
My sweet Youth was full of excitements and days of pleasure,
My Age is now full of anguish, worries, care and unpleasant truth;
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Has your love ever becomes as a fever, as a plague, longing still
For that which the longer nurses this disease,
Feeding on that which does preserve this sweet to sickness ill,
That fosters the uncertain sickly appetite to please.
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In my childhood dream I rush over a hill and over a dale,
Thorough thicket of a bush, thorough a tangle of a brier,
Over spring blooming park, over a mild slope pale,
Thorough winter flood channel streets, thorough dry fields summer fire!
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Love, how painful is your absence during this up coming spring,
When proud May, clad in all his adoration of colors and trim,
It skips no flower no bush, putting a spirit of youth in everything,
That even heavy sanguine Saturn laughs and dances with him,
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So shall I carry on assuming, innocently supposing that you are true,
Like a deceived husband; a cuckoo bird on a bough, so that love's face
May still seem love to me, though altered within you to one new;
You are looking at me as usual yet your heart is in other place:
...