String Lyre, Though A Poet Seer Be Sad Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

String lyre, though a Poet Seer be sad
the cliffs hanging
the sea crystalline and it
reflected the glacier of beauty
the blue glacier


the blue angels are singing
hear them! hear them! and rest
your heart, your heavy heart
my mother, my mother, life-blood that
circulates in me gives
me my breathing makes me
the scientist, the dramatist, the philosopher,
the thinker, the Poet Seer
hear! hear my mother!


hear my mother the winds that were loud
at your command sub-conscious to please you
obedient in their silence cease
hear! hear mother!


though beauty lurks in her high heavens where
she prefers sojourn; yet
in your case mother
beauty trod barefoot the black earth
barefoot, mother.


string lyre, though a Poet Seer be sad
the cliffs hanging
the sea crystalline and it
reflected the glacier of beauty
the blue glacier