Aid Me My Muse, My Mind Instill Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
Aid Me My Muse, My Mind Instill
Aid me, my Muse, my mind instill
And in my soul your warm breathe give
To sing of Morpheus and his pleasant dreams
I cannot sleep these days.
Aye! Aye! Aye! I cannot sleep
And thus came pilgrim to the Muse’s shrine
And there to ask my prayer to grant
That I may rest my head in welcome sleep:
What gifts, my Muse, favor will procure
And cast me up in(to) your fortune’s eyes
Sprinkle with myrrh my passage to your shrine
And fill with queer shapes its unwinding path?
What gifts, my Muse, will please you most
Amidst the gleaming jewels of the East
Which the hoarding miser strokes with trembling hands
In darkened solitude blest by a small light?
What gifts, my Muse, will enchanting procure
Your gracious favors to my anxious self
Make your scepter yield with wanton hand
And of your ordinance soften the content?
You appeal to the Muse with unabashed familiarity - you do nothing demeaning or unfair to the other seekers or to her. B-U-T there is an urgency under the floor. It is a character rescued from mediocrity, from the false dreams of Mordred and others that she arouses, One who can be a true heir of a King, he is willing to both carry the weight and set it downfor someone else to carry. It is necessary to share the negative as well as the positive. We are poets, not redeemers. We share the burden as well as the glory. Ours is never a lonely life because over thr next hill live other poets, and in the next life we will be transformed into angels.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/18/2024 6:09:14 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A beautiful poem with an appropriate caption. 'What gifts, my Muse, will enchanting procure Your gracious favors to my anxious self Make your scepter yield with wanton hand And of your ordinance soften the content? ' - Loved these concluding lines.