The Last Cicada Poem by Marieta Maglas
The Last Cicada
Something within the mountain~
a sadness that seeps through the walls;
no human voice; mist to cover all;
cicada becoming only decorative art;
ancestral, sesquipedal echoes of the speaking sky.
When nothing can preserve nature,
neither the birds nor the flowers can survive.
Thinking of the moments when
only the tree shadows move;
following the sun's rays;
playing games with life;
gorgeous bouquets of roses
while losing love.
Copyright © Marieta Maglas
When Earth is destroyed of its pristine qualities and its verdure, all creatures will perish.... even the cicadas! They cannot survive in frost! So the nights are going to be dreadfully still! Enjoyed!
Scientists are still trying to crack this and other cicada mysteries........Marieta......Your writings are very informative and your style of writing is also very unique.........I like it very much
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 6:32:40 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Nice poem, Marieta. Can I ask: did you have also -maybe- that haiku from Matsuo Bashō [« deep silence – / the shrill of cicadas / seeps into rocks »] in your mind when writing your poem?