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This is the melancholy of Innocence, so do sit and have a glass. Drink slowly, and savour the taste friends; for innocence shortly lasts. She is as a flower, most beautiful at bloom, but, we must not forget now; that flowers must wither too.

So what is the sadness... the melancholy of Innocence, if all things must pass away? Perhaps it is the longing then, that one's innocence did remain. Yes, the melancholy of Innocence; is that deepest longing, day after day. The longing for something, you know well that you can't regain.
Greetings, this is my first piece, so I hope that you may enjoy. The melancholy of Innocence, ironically, may bring you happiness and joy.
Seal have i carved on you,
Binding your thirst, sealing up leaking cracks of cravings;
Seconds to asunder.
Restrain i must your pending bite,
A taste so sweet, once a lifetime,
Till the bed of union is
Unshackled by marriage.

Come now,
Hold tight the hands of commitment;
Daughter of celibacy on
The lush island of discipline, birthing
Fruits of wisdom.

Let her forge you after her likeness,
For she descend from obedience
Anointed by virtue and Barren of sin.

She shall with her shard of justice,
Skin thee of lust; yielding screeches from thy mouth
To bury thy rotting scent in a pit of confusion,
Warding off venomous wombs
Baptized by Satan; To prepare thee for the Promised,
My Maiden of Chastity
With her receipt of purity.
In due time.
Marion Jul 7
andrew.
i fall to my knees at his feet with a heavy breath.
i almost feel unworthy.
this person, this man-
he's perfection in flesh and blood.
i feel blessed.
this angel, a saint with flaws, perfect flaws.
i nearly worship him.
godlike, i search his face for signs of light, anything celestial or close to it.
i find them faintly, small, unnoticeable to anyone who's wronged him.
he is perfect, and somehow, he is mine.
I long to taste a sugar plum off the ****** tree,
walk in the field of golden grass just to feel.
I want to feel the sugar plum tree, high at stake and bright with sweet bumble nests.
We all talk about apple trees, but why not the plum tree?
Gracefully swaying it's branches in the summers light.
I long to taste a sugar plum, laced in sweet white crystals.
The juice flows through our mouths, fresh, cold, and sweet.
Deep colors from it's roots to it's leaves, we have brown, light purple to dark purple, which we call plum, green delight how beautiful it is in my sight. I want a sugar plum, to bite into it's fruitful dismay and lay on natures green bed, so soft, so gentle. Stare into the clouds watching them gently float by, a cool breeze of sweet air swishes amongst my earthly face as i fall asleep under the sugar plum tree.
To express nature's beauty.
دema Jun 3
I gave something to you
that belonged to me,
but most importantly
I gave something to you
that I should have wanted for me.
Mayan Poetry Translations

The Receiving of the Flower
excerpt from a Mayan love poem
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Let us sing overflowing with joy
as we observe the Receiving of the Flower.
The lovely maidens beam;
their hearts leap in their *******.

Why?

Because they will soon yield their virginity to the men they love!

###

The Deflowering
excerpt from a Mayan love poem
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Remove your clothes;
let down your hair;
become as naked as the day you were born—

virgins!

###

Prelude to *******
excerpt from a Mayan love poem
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Lay out your most beautiful clothes,
maidens!
The day of happiness has arrived!

Grab your combs, detangle your hair,
adorn your earlobes with gaudy pendants.
Dress in white as becomes maidens ...

Then go, give your lovers the happiness of your laughter!
And all the village will rejoice with you,
for the day of happiness has arrived!

###

The Flower-Strewn Pool
excerpt from a Mayan love poem
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You have arrived at last in the woods
where no one can see what you do
at the flower-strewn pool ...

Remove your clothes,
unbraid your hair,
become as you were
when you first arrived here,

virgins, maidens!

These are my modern English translations of ancient Mayan love poems. Native Americans were creating poems and songs in pre-Columbian days; Mayan and Aztec literature may date back to the first millennium BCE. Unfortunately the Spanish conquerors of South America destroyed all but four of the thousands of pre-Columbian books that probably once existed (according to translator Michael Coe). Mayan hieroglyphs remain far from fully understood and dating what remains is difficult. However, the best poetry is timeless and I believe we can know our Mayan brothers and sisters a little better through their poems.—Michael R. Burch
These are my modern English translations of ancient Mayan love poems. Native Americans were creating poems and songs in pre-Columbian days; Mayan and Aztec literature may date back to the first millennium BCE. Unfortunately the Spanish conquerors of South America destroyed all but four of the thousands of pre-Columbian books that probably once existed (according to translator Michael Coe). Mayan hieroglyphs remain far from fully understood and dating what remains is difficult. However, the best poetry is timeless and I believe we can know our Mayan brothers and sisters a little better through their poems.—Michael R. Burch

Keywords/Tags: ancient, Mayan, poetry, translation, translations, love, virginity, ***, marriage, joy, happiness, flower, flowers, deflowering, clothes, hair, ******, nakedness
Jenifer S May 3
One, two, three, four, the digits increment daily
Makes me fearfully wonder which number I am of the  many
I know boys like you are proud of their body count
Every casualty places you a rank higher, nearly twenty

It's the triumph of your manhood, the cause of others' envy
You think back fondly on these memories and leave me feeling empty
Every reaped ****** pinned on your chest in the form of a medallion
While every story of your victory encourages me to be petty

A wound in my chest where your bullet had pierced through
And a tally of scars on my skin for the times I've missed you
From when I so foolishly gave you my untainted heart
You were my one and only, and I dared expect to be yours too

The image of countless women wrapped around your body
These haunting thoughts racing through my head endlessly  
You smirk and brag like you're the golden saint of filth
Your pride making me regret and ashamed that you're my one and only

Your wealth in experience highlighting your superiority
I hate how you carelessly point out my inferiority
When you dodge the question "are you pleased?"
As I desperately pray for a change to make me  equally worthy

I almost crave the same attention that you received
To feel accomplished for once and to feel relieved
For you say to I'm good enough rather than turn away
For, to be your best, to be special is all I want to have achieved
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