the beauty was so perfect...
that it felt...almost cruel,
i could feel the pain in my bosom...
the pain of its perfection.
i could not look away.
i could not blink.
i forgot to draw the lifegiving breath
that sustains this fragile being...
the sounds of the stream,
swirling, like a thousand free spirits,
playing at ring a roses
around age worn crags,
pulled me down, into depths so cold, so sweet,
filled with such tragically soft promises...
of heaven and honeysuckle,
that i felt mesmerically at peace.
the ecstacy was paralytic,
in its wholeness.
so long have i hunted for you,
years i have lusted, for a dropp
of this nectar...
here, finally,
i can feel you, looking upon me.
feel your warmth caress my face.
i am home!
i am free!
a child of the earth, a soul at peace.
o Lord, let me rest here....
in the shadows of Your Grace,
these trappings of pretensions
i feel, i can't don anymore.
o let me stay!
let me swathe my spirit
in the balm of this quietude,
float like an atom,
upon the winds,
of freedom,
and soul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The main part of this poem is swathed with beauty and the pain is worn by patience, this i slife itself. The end, there is giving up to the eternity, in soulful solace. I like the upper part.10