A SUMMER'S EVE
Once upon a summer's eve,
Alone in my chamber of solemn rue,
From a black baby grand arose melodies of blue
Which matched the sky as they did grieve.
Of a lady they spoke in a minor tone,
Languid as they sailed from the bower below,
Through the half opened panes of the curtained window,
They revealed their secret charms to me alone.
And as the moon ascended into the night,
Like a dew clad flower of lacrimal hues,
I was struck by her lovely, scarlet retinues
Of haunting sobs in the lantern's light.
JOHN LARS ZWERENZ {C} 2018
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem