INSANE POETRY RUNNING AWAY Part 01
Gathered among lovely nymphs, whose grace shines brightly like eternal stars
Their vibrant essence lingers, embracing radiantly,
In the dream-laden air, does my love pursue only a fleeting vision?
My uncertainty, an ancient veil of darkness, now reaches its peak.
In the quiet branches that linger faithfully, in enduring woods,
Alas, I too have presented myself as a false and grand ideal.
Should we then speak of these maidens whom you hold in sight,
Do they mirror the deep desires that haunt your senses' flight?
One, a deceptive illusion of purity, cold and chaste like tears,
Yet the other, full of sighs and warmth, a stark contrast to the world?
No! Through lazy reveries, stifling the gentle rise of morning,
No waters flow, except those that my flute's soft murmur conjures.
To the grove, with melodies sprinkled like a gentle rain,
Where my twin pipes play swiftly, untouched by the limits of the horizon.
Oh shores of Sicily, in tranquil marshes I am lost,
Vanity contends with the brilliance of the sun, at such a cost.
Silent beneath shimmering blooms, let me thus narrate,
Of reeds I cut and tamed, when behold! From a distant vineyard's gate,
A creature as pure as snow descends upon the verdant glow,
A prelude soft as pipes, like swans in flight bestow.
All inert things burn in this warm, languid hour,
Unaware of how they fled the captivating power of desire.
Now awake, primal urge, beneath the ancient flood's embrace,
Lily! Your innocence in your gaze, true amidst the grand pace.
But beyond this sweet nothingness, beneath their brief kiss,
My heart, untouched by proof, reveals a profound mystery.
Let it be! For in the reeds we play, under the azure sky,
Turning cheeks to tremble, dreams take flight.
To amuse the beauty around, with notes that weave and sway,
Between the dream and song, love's whispers softly play.
Copyright ©
Ernest Robles
|