The wine with its grace
purifies my grief.
When in bed, the two candlesticks
are the flames of your very eyes.
I fetch down a cloud as a pillow,
the sky I lower as my coverlet.
Bare bosom you entered my dream
(no, it’s not a dream, I said) Aphrodite
then you pull me up to dance with,
young for ever, vertical and horizontal;
in the end you award me a price,
the fragrant juice of your beauty,
to get me drunk on your other table.
Let it go, let this world pass and go,
all sensible but ignorant men, who live on
vinegar and dry bread holding a compass;
let us dream alone what they cannot.
Here, a jar of pure wine of love
opens wide the gate of the space,
and the spout to flow chaste honey
and purling water, a life transparent,
which the others cannot discover
in the vaporous glory of their life.
nicely written, and what dreams you must have, I bet they are just terrific, you express them very well keep up the great work. Harry
thickly knitted descriptive poem...wonderfully crafted...very very good poetry indeed.
it's like reading a classical poet...you are one, indeed!
This is wonderful poetry, the phrasing the metaphors are perfect. Thank you Bob
i like these lines: - 'Bare bosom you entered my dream (no, it’s not a dream, I said) Aphrodite then you pull me up to dance with, young for ever, vertical and horizontal; in the end you award me a price, the fragrant juice of your beauty, to get me drunk on your other table. ' -so brilliant....as writer
Never! never! have i related to to words such as yours! ` you have grabbed, taken, enslaved my being
You write so beautiful, you have a great talent with words. This poem is lovely. Hugs, Donna
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes it's got that classical touch...