Inspired by Merton Charl April Croutz
In a poems works of words,
truth there remains untitled;
eyes innocent close quickly,
shun world on brink of end;
the question, trust all dreams,
reap not thought caviled;
preservation justly concurs,
as lives to be transcend.
Page side page two pictured souls,
gaze at each in pose;
in place and touch, book is closed,
linked by colours' prose;
as crisp linen is to canvas,
words penned by each repose;
and roam within pages thin,
merging as souls' transpose.
Free in heart released of dark,
above a horned ones sin;
needs expressed as thought's peruse,
blessed as if by Min;
survive entwined, two become,
love's keys to passion's twinned;
join as one, two so choose,
in word, soul's nexus attained.
Read within the words of many,
identify one to be attune;
pathway is now inexplicit,
travail and in all works commune;
twice willed marrow of two minds,
combined world's ills impugn;
in choice, applaud twisting fates,
bliss consciously immune.
Words are mind's illustrations,
deserve a crowning title;
and touching, with spectral colours,
to livings beings vitals;
response of self-conscience,
this purpose grants our survival;
truth between all overshadows,
brings light to love's revival.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem