The River

We cannot step into the same stream twice
but we have stepped. Oh, deep and mighty river
of bliss that runs between the paradise
and the inferno. Our reflections quiver
with cold, with yearning, with the future tense
which is indefinite... It will be over
as soon as we recover the old sense
of water depth. Oh, let this leaf of clover
glued to your buttock be a pledge of love
which first, a wild, a furious, a foamy, 
rapidly rushes, jumping from above
into the chasm and then, a calm, a homey,
quenches a valley’s thirst… 
                                       Once we will see
this mighty river flow into the sea.

loveriversonnet

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