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ingridPoems
Rain, coming softly at dawn, softens the dreamer's longing Wintery watery blue-gray as cotton cloth Called daba in their land, strong and rough Merging with morning skies, cotton-gray clouds crowding; Lemons in full bloom, fleur-d'-orange candles burning; Smell, almost tangible, rises with currents of air Stronger than that in July, of dung in banana-fields, choking Stench wrapping houses, creeping in backyards, swimming in warm fog Sackcloth houses of cardboard people asleep; Dreamers hear rain dripping, skipping from leaf to leaf Whispering. Whispering to his companions, real, faithful Standing by him till the time ends, intangible Warrior proud and dark talking to swords, Come and take me Wounds on my body will smile as my love's red lips Pain as the cruel words of that red lips As if she were with me not him Spirit of mountains, his friend, shy and courteous Hiding his ugly face with his kimono sleeve Pale moon over the colorless sea Before sunrise. Say, I wonder, all those I left behind Say, when we are all dead Will we still talk to each other in silence Will they touch water of Rivers with my lips Will I feel wrath of the fire with their hands Sun, rising slowly, insolent fireball Burns us before we think of answer Outlines of shadows in stone Stay for a while. Sun, rising slowly, lights with its carrot rays Fleur-d'-orange, incense of this shameless spring; Boughs burning candles, best drug in trade, Mark time to refresh stale loves To re-marry every year again.
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Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 4:36 PM UTC
15/04/2006
Rain, coming softly at dawn, softens the dreamer's longing Wintery watery blue-gray as cotton cloth Called daba in their land, strong and rough Merging with morning skies, cotton-gray clouds crowding; Lemons in full bloom, fleur-d'-orange candles burning; Smell, almost tangible, rises with currents of air Stronger than that in July, of dung in banana-fields, choking Stench wrapping houses, creeping in backyards, swimming in warm fog Sackcloth houses of cardboard people asleep; Dreamers hear rain dripping, skipping from leaf to leaf Whispering. Whispering to his companions, real, faithful Standing by him till the time ends, intangible Warrior proud and dark talking to swords, Come and take me Wounds on my body will smile as my love's red lips Pain as the cruel words of that red lips As if she were with me not him Spirit of mountains, his friend, shy and courteous Hiding his ugly face with his kimono sleeve Pale moon over the colorless sea Before sunrise. Say, I wonder, all those I left behind Say, when we are all dead Will we still talk to each other in silence Will they touch water of Rivers with my lips Will I feel wrath of the fire with their hands Sun, rising slowly, insolent fireball Burns us before we think of answer Outlines of shadows in stone Stay for a while. Sun, rising slowly, lights with its carrot rays Fleur-d'-orange, incense of this shameless spring; Boughs burning candles, best drug in trade, Mark time to refresh stale loves To re-marry every year again.
Written by
ingrid
Latvian
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 4:36 PM UTC
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