Certain repressed gods,
compelled to shed shade
over humanity's visions,
forecast the end of the world
after the apogee
of the endowed aeons.
We planned passages
of higher perplexity forcing them
toward the skyline's limit.
All the elements infused together
during a utopian union.
We believed everything
was finalised, until the resentful
gods we had deceived
arose again, a Mafia Mobius
band strangulating
our self-righteousness;
laying our hearts in our hands:
coveted crimson corsages.
Life begins anew, portents
and the dead illuminated,
the tsunami breaks on the horizon,
the space between our brothers
and sisters diminishes
as dewy-eyed Dawn leans
upon her golden sceptre.
Terra reborn! The poet's prestige
placed before her altar.
02/01/08
Well now. It's a word I often have to use about your work because it's the only one that fits. Erudite. Also, evocative and thought-provoking.... this warrants at least three reads, and slowly conducted reads at that. The pace lends itself to pensive reading. t x
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'Life begins anew, portents and the dead illuminated, ………………. Terra reborn! The poet's prestige placed before her altar.' Perfectly well express... Safely speak before the god so I can not... To store you the god... Tsira