If she fastened down her tears with her eyelids closed
dazzled by the sun, the moon, a dream on the horizon,
would you be there when they open composed?
Made of starlight - would you be her Titan?
Her protector, her Kronos: Sire, do not devourer me?
Instead, let me also rest in the 'Isles-of-the-Blessed.'
And there wake sire beside your giant torso invitee
shielded and protected, in your heart I-shall nest.
Put on wings and fly above the rain clouds
and tears will no longer dampen my heart quest.
Perched-in-these heavenly gyres like wild fowls:
Sire, see to my need to join others I dispossessed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sire, do not swallow me? Instead, let me also rest in the Isles of the Blessed. And there wake sire beside your giant torso invitee Shielded and protected, in your heart I shall nest..very fine poem dear poet. thank you for ur great thoughts.. tony