Lonely lunatic, look for the golden giraffe, and try to ride it soon!
Raise clouds of dust in which the strange long neck horse
Swims and dreams the waves attracted by the moldy moon:
In mirror time, from dream descending both, of course;
You can see the green hair of the sky and the rainbow rhomb;
But, who is ready to pick the rusty thoughts of old memory?
Among the clouds we try to row above our tomb;
Following our recollections, we carve in expensive ivory.
The river of time sent us its waves of this incense emerald hour
In which we call back the summer’s amber of the fruitful word;
So, this can be seen through windows of our age tower
And again we cross through the trees and the black sword:
People of air turned to the blessed breeze of brotherhood,
Reading Thora, Bible and Koran and walking in the wood
It`s peace in the forest, this night…
All stars gathered in the same breath;
The frost`s wolf chatters his white teeth;
Mourning old trees are all covered by light;
The wind increased his obsessive white;
Neighbors: the snowmen and a glass stag
When night is finally waving its white flag,
Dreams are hanged by luminous white of the height.
Winter buried its face in frozen white lands,
Long Snow drifts grew like glass clouds above
And covered the village and half of the church;
Sun seems a squeezed lemon by white hands.
Milk dawns, glass blower speaks slowly of love;
White field sounds with crows near one silver birch.
Unforgettable sweet horizon like the sleeping woman's hips...
Tortuous destiny whose yellow sadness tips
With centuries of sacred silence ;
After I pass the sacred glass beads through
Since the pink dawn and the sweet dew;
After I live "Philokalia", blessing the Lord's name
With one thousand sad prayers,
With faith that can move the mountains,
With complete devotion and obedience,
Silent like a statue of long endurance,
Could I remember her again?
From eternity, for ever had been
Above the waters without border,
The light of that very beginning in no world
And no time, but this cloud and the first Word
Who changed the trembling no time's order,
So that the paradise still mirrors in her eyes green…
Beard like our bishop, you'll wear:
Lost you'll be for this world, my friend…
But your secret mad hope still moves like a lizard
In front of the rocks with human face.
With "Philokalia", your dreams will ascend...
Maybe, from heaven will drop a tear:
With bitter taste of grass and leaves of any honey September;
And the dawn with scent of woman will rest in no time's amber.
With closed eyes,because this burning light,
The clouds will go beyond the golden day,
And sun will rest in your hair, a playful ray,
But blue will stretch a hand to inner sight;
Some dreams are riding yet, the friendly pony.
Neighbors: the fairy`s breasts in joyous rest;
With closed eyes, the morning wind will test
And run a bee along no time wet honey;
Old summer buried its face in gentle light and sand;
Some dreams grew like shinning clouds above
By covering the castles,then a part of our beach;
No wind to run them , except a tender hand.
The taste of salt and sea are slowly speaking love;
While changeable waves, to blond laughs reach...
Days buried in the snow to save
Recollections touching the grave
Moved by wind in desert of ice,
Moved far from the sea of thy eyes
In the forgot countries of glass;
With wasteful waves they quickly pass.
Stars gather them in their cold lights,
Dropping from sky, they burn our sights.
Longitude of longing new heights
Looms wave shinning hopes in checked nights
Windows with ice-flowers covered,
Know how their old perfumes were robbed
By young snowmen knocking at door
And asking at what colored floor
Is the blond spring`s good fairy hid?
Wind blows from the other side
Of horizon humming a lied;
Sleepy snowdrops started to read
About dreams riding white horses,
Climb up the mountain of Moses!
I hold the rainbow and an arrow, for you, my reader;
The thrill of good tomorrow for you, my reader;
The butterfly of happiness will fly from our book
To find a reason and a certitude, for you, my reader;
You don`t remember this verse I took
In the hand of light, for you, my reader
It was at very beginning a word, for you, my reader
And wonders made by Lord, for you, my reader
Temptation of good , to see the truth ,this festival
of hope with favorable look, for you, my reader
And here, YOUR NAME I put, while writing a Ghazal:
A nosegay of perfumes, a tender touch for you, my reader
Another walking among seasons and holy beads
As our thoughts moves clouds in a grey sky,
And paint the leaves above our heads;
With a priori color of serenity, your eyes try
To open the white gates of transparent joyous morning;
The air got the scent of hot apple pies, the smile -a meaning
Of what the fingers are touching and what they are dreaming;
Are those our guardian-angels who silently walk by?
The rain of the morning tea falling from heights;
A new painted bench seemed to be almost dry;
White statues sit on the grass near the brave knights;
Two angels with glass wings have just learnt to fly.
But, leaves` procession under the kiss of the wind;
Buds of faith and hope live in philosophical mind.
A Humpty Dumpty man
Became a couple, then a tribe;
And now, we know
The Humpty Dumpty people.
At first, a Humpty Dumpty verse
My only universe
But now, because the rhyme
We live in Humpty Dumpty`s Time.
At first, it was no rhythm
When verses drumming their feet
But now, we know
This song became a hit.
My hand holds your hand and that`s enough.
In the green`s intervals, the weather is rough;
The blue wind freed its own ghost’s chain
Following the rhythm of the crystalline rain;
With the leaf`s thrill and embrace`s embers
Patient ruby hidden in alabaster chambers,
Far from the desert of mirrors, standing aloof
As vulnerable as the surge`s serenity`s proof;
Simple surmise falling down with the mist,
Suspension bridge above the yellow East;
Looking from the season `s round roof,
Solitude seems hit by a rueful cold hoof.
Like the violet dawns date with the pale moon,
Chapel`s morning joined the emerald afternoon;
Air angels with white wings are our mates;
Trees beg for heaven to let open the gates;
We listen to inner chansons sung by Edith Piaf
My hand holds your hand and that`s enough.
The clouds are walking and smile a bit, above the green for joy inviting;
They call a playful rain; the green is shinning; the blue is winning…
And your heart is reading my Ghazal, but rhythm is missing:
Because from ink, ascends so sweet and white, the merry dove.
An arrow flies above the rest of world, the mirror’s love,
At other side of our night, when sun and moon are meeting:
A world of statues in which the dreams were pouring down
Since the beginning of the time, since nothing had been (known);
But clouds -huge butterflies, and maybe stars, just dreamt the light…
And those blind dreams were swimming to sweet season of love:
Here is the same river of time, where God forgot his blessed glove.
Unforgettable love at first sight, whose light follows the dove,
And crosses the world and the heavens of That One Love!