there was a girl
who was my love
who cried a tear
that turned to a dove
that took to the air
above golden flowers
and cried a lament
for i was not hers
she cried and she cried
til its feathers turned black
because her true love
would not come back
she cried a tear
of salty black
that turned to a hawk
with a spur on its back
that took to the sky
and killed the black dove
and ripped it apart
and cursed her true love
This is a beautifully intense poem! ! ! ! I love your references because they are so true. My favorite line is the last one. Keep on writing!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What an interesting write… I recall coming across it a year ago, but I failed to leave any comment as I felt rather unwell… I find it very inspiring. It reads like a piece about revolutionary technical development. Comparing 21st century and medieval ages, for example, we can proudly state we have reached the highest level of human potential and all dreams seem to come true… May I add more lyrics to your creativity: why not to call the dove ‘Greenbeams’: Alas, my dove, you do me wrong, To cast me off discourteously. For I have stalk on you well and long, Delighting in your misery. Chorus: Greenbeams was all my joy Greebeams was my delight, Greenbeams was my truth untold, And who but my dove greenbeams. (…) My men were clothed all in green, And they did ever wait on thee; This was for all to be seen, And yet thou wouldst not think of me. Chorus: Greenbeams was all my joy Greebeams was my delight, Greenbeams was my truth untold, And who but my dove greenbeams. Inspired by well known ‘Greensleeves’