Silentium

 She has not yet been born:
she is music and word,
and therefore the untorn,
fabric of what is stirred.
 

Silent the ocean breathes.

Madly day’s glitter roams.

Spray of pale lilac foams,
in a bowl of grey-blue leaves.


May my lips rehearse
the primordial silence,
like a note of crystal clearness,
sounding, pure from birth!

Stay as foam Aphrodite – Art –
and return, Word, where music begins:
and, fused with life’s origins,
be ashamed heart, of heart!

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