Soft summer zephyr wafts Keats' Nightingale
along time's rhyme line, on no midnight sleeps,
Tree Dryad's tune sends tremors up, down dale,
harmonics' sweet eternal wonder keeps.
'Sull'aria', soft canzonetta's call,
runs through the gamut of emotions' range,
as 'soave zefiretto' trembles, held in thrall
as siren song on perilous seas full strange.
Through woven word worlds lovers from the past
still celebrate angelic serenade,
whose haunting chords undaunted by time's blast
ignore farewells despite life's cavalcade.
Each note outreaches generation gaps
as thrilling throat trills dream theme which won't lapse.
(21 May 2012)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem