Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
South winds jostle them -
Bumblebees come -
Hover - hesitate -
Drink, and are gone -
Butterflies pause
On their passage Cashmere -
I - softly plucking,
Present them here!
Commenta
South winds jostle them -
Bumblebees come -
Hover - hesitate -
Drink, and are gone -
Butterflies pause
On their passage Cashmere -
I - softly plucking,
Present them here!
"They have not chosen me" - he said -
"But I have chosen them"!
Brave - Broken hearted statement -
Uttered in Bethleem!
I could not have told it,
But since Jesus dared,
Sovreign, know a Daisy
Thy dishonor shared!
Her breast is fit for pearls,
But I was not a "Diver".
Her brow is fit for thrones -
But I had not a crest.
Her heart is fit for home -
I - a sparrow - build there
Sweet of twigs and twine
My perennial nest.
The longest day that God appoints
Will finish with the sun.
Anguish can travel to it's stake,
And then it must return.
Lad of Athens, faithful be
To thyself,
And Mystery -
All the rest is Perjury.
Sweet hours have perished here,
This is a mighty room -
Within it's precincts hopes have played
Now shadows in the tomb.
Those final Creatures, - who they are -
That, faithful to the close,
Administer her ecstasy,
But just the Summer knows.
The saddest noise, the sweetest noise,
The maddest noise that grows, -
The birds, they make it in the spring,
At night's delicious close,
Between the March and April line -
That magical frontier
Beyond which summer hesitates,
Almost too heavenly near.
It makes us think of all the dead
That sauntered with us here,
By separation's sorcery
Made cruelly more dear.
It makes us think of what we had,
And what we now deplore.
We almost wish those siren throats
Would go and sing no more.
An ear can break a human heart
As quickly as a spear.
We wish the ear had not a heart
So dangerously near.
Fame is a bee.
It has a song -
It has a sting -
Ah, too, it has a wing.
Were nature mortal lady
Who had so little time
To pack her trunk and order
The great exchange of clime -
How rapid, how momentous -
What exigencies were -
But nature will be ready
And have an hour to spare.
To make some trifle fairer
That was too fair before -
Enchanting by remaining,
And by departure more.