Alone; from that fountain, Since spring now sprung;
My childhood birthed, back into passions room.
As others have, all gone over and into again
and I must now pass again alone, and afraid.
and the eye, and heavens one gated needle;
Where I once fought that eagle, out yonder lord.
Then left me again, and you passed me bye,
Come hear me, and my eye on those lips.
I ride a torrent, and water of red, inside alone;
Again, forgotten and never to be so different.
Winter blooms now, and I'm alone once more;
Gone there forever; the flame of no more.
The note to me alone, and lost in that my song;
My childhood knew no hold, and it's labored sorrow;
Unknown, and once mysterious, it stays and
Opens it's door somewhere, in you to sleep alone;
and as lightning cools, and that fountain once hot;
and spring with passion, heavy gone..away..
This is an elegant poem. I always hold my breath; reading somebody new, because I have a feeling I am inhaling somebody's soul then, and with you the feeling is very strong.
it is an exceptional poem thereby almost perfect communication between man and nature..10+++ from me
A beautiful write, though I don't think that each and every thing stems from childhood, we're very complicated beings with very mysterious compositions of both mind and bodies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
poignancy have here swelling the page...nice one!