The Whole Soul Poem by Tom Billsborough

The Whole Soul



The whole soul epitomized
When slowly we breathe it out
In several smoke rings
Vanishing in other rings.

It attests to some cigar
Burning skilfully provided
The ash is separate
From its bright kiss of fire.

So the choir of our romances
Flies to the lips.
Exclude from, if you start,
The real because it is base.

A meaning too precise
Erases your discrete literature.

Thursday, July 7, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: creativity
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Translation of a poem by Stephane Mallarme,19th Century French poet
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Tom Billsborough

Tom Billsborough

Preston Lancashire England
Close
Error Success