Dream of the blue ugly
And you will never see the smooth whispers
Of the moon behind shadows of misty gardens.
Ask who is there but do not have a need to know.
Stop to think and they will scream at you.
Lie to them and then watch
As their weakness turns to love.
A petal of beauty falls into the storm and is lost forever
As a sweet repulsive wind swims above
This symphony of bloodless rain.
Cool chanting moment is but a knife
Driven deep, deeper into those still pictures
Sleeping in bitter recall.
Trip in the rusty light & shine true & delirious
Like a diamond lusting in those visions
Of a winter sky in your head.
I AM YOUR SAD DELICATE DEATH
AND
YOU ARE MY MAD MUSIC.
(3-12-1975)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem