BALLADS
Ballads from guitars resound with harmonies from angels sung;
The concertos of the cloister are writ for your ears alone.
Roses in the arbor's rays are married to the vine clad stone.
The effulgent bower is dressed for a lady, raven haired and young.
Myrtle trees are doused with light,
As their leafy limbs are dipped in pools.
Gales grace the path where the day's reflection cools.
Solemnity and passion await the strains of night.
Take my hand, my lover, where the white petals weep!
Let us stroll amid the boons where marigolds sleep!
Let us seek the radiant blessings of the mystic hour!
There are glistening dahlias which speak of the coming rain.
Clouds amass as lavender billows to assuage all pain,
And to caress your mane with a somnolent shower!
John Lars Zwerenz
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem