Love, a cup I hold;
I've drank and from whence I am drunk.
The cross on my shoulder lay.
In fear I whimper;
in care I whisper the sweet nothing
meaningful to only one.
Love! Every day we see,
yet 'tis the stranger we'll never know.
The best of man it stoops, the wisest of him,
it makes, apple to joggle.
Love with many faces and;
Yet with no face, in many places yet a destitute,
causes many harms yet earns gratitude. Love!
The first mystery begging resolution!
Love - first mystery. thanks. I like it. I invite you to read my poems and comment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very intelligent piece of writing- good to read a detached analysis of this fearsome abstract that rears itself in all our lives. Thankyou