Dark Day, Bright night,
spears from heaven rip through
the curtains shielding my mind,
Now my eyes may see
and from deep within me
unfolds this creature
with fiery eyes.
Locks of gold, claws of wrath,
fangs that dig deep into the soul.
What, my sons, shall I leave?
What dreary thoughts i feel creep.
Sink inside a cup of wine,
drink from the bounty of the vine,
play the lute some eerie tunes,
drifting thoughts like moving dunes.
The sinews of my mind,
thread the curtains covering my eyes,
yet in such might do I now blend
to rip my hands in air ascend.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sink inside a cup of wine, drink from the bounty of the vine, play the lute some eerie tunes, drifting thoughts like moving dunes. Very fine poem. very original in execution. tony