She's beautiful
But...
It surpasses skin deep
Because its deeper than that

Poise
By the way she carries herself
Confident
Just observe her walk
Intellectual
Just listen to her as she talks

Her words flow together so smoothly
The tone of her voice shows so much serenity
As she uses her extensive vocabulary In the right context
You'd have to be lying if you didn't Find It attractive

Nobody's perfect, Not even the Perfectionist herself
She screws up every now and then
But...
She doesn't let that disrupt her Composure

Completely versatile, like she's her Own *****
Creative in every way possible, She Expresses that with every chance she Gets
She's unforgettable

I mean how can you let yourself to forget her ?

Kindred Spirit
(Ode an angel)

Your anatomy is an atom in it's purest form
if I am your moon you are my sun,
unequivocally you are my all.

The sole of you feet
drag sand from other beaches
I am the the owner of an amputated
spirit that you mend with broken kisses.

My kindred spirit.

Idealistically,
the being made from the same mold
when I contemplate you visually
leaves no doubt in my soul.

Physically, lyrically,
metaphorically speaking.
The Caribbean reflects on your face
when sun hits it
giving your Cinnamon complexion
a whole new meaning.

My kindred love.

I am humbled to you have you whole
and you are an angel sans the halo
and your smile makes God himself blush.

You are definitely not of this world
and warmth of your body surpasses
that of the Equator
when I am your scorching fire
you are my log.

My kindred soul.

Your heart is bigger than everything that is
and I would gladly spend
the rest of my life in your lips
undoubtedly, mathematically
an infinity will be it.

Because you are the cure
to my incurable illness
everything that I wanted,
my Earth, my Sun, my all
my kindred spirit.

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Pour us more Palm-wine!
Said the groom as he stood
Mama sodiq, you sell the best Palm-wine in this village
Palm-wine! Palm-wine!!
Poured into the cup of my consciousness,
As I move through today, I call on you to give me
Thy guide as I dive into the storm of weaving waters
Ever since that day, blessed by the gods
When I met my Ajoke, at the òdún ìgęsún night
Adorn greatly with sweaty shaking breeded waist
Of the Omidans of our village
Bimpe! Kunle's resting stool,
The little mouse àlonpé from the village of Alarape,
With the help of mope, yours is not the matter of kowope.
Your intellect surpasses that of wole the head of the palace gaurds
Moving from one palm tree to another
Just to get my message to ajoke
Bode ògbójú ode
A rare friend whose great guns of words
Fired down enemies standing as storms
I pray you find true love with Dupe
Iya olu, thy words are divine
The milk of experience through which my suckle lips
Drill out knowledge from thy breast helping me
To solve the puzzles of life
I pray you  live long to see thy grand child......

Tranquility can’t be obtained
from external sources; ultimate
peace must come from within…
one’s own soul; when trained

by the local Church, ideals
of Truth’s tenets are taught;
they’re meant to elevate our
thinking, whereby what’s real

or true… becomes much clearer.
Life is simplified as false steps
are avoided; self-confidence grows
with Faith’s maturity; when nearer

to Jehovah, our Life is enhanced!
For His peace surpasses all human
understanding, where tranquility
dwells; when Faith has advanced,

you’ll find tranquility… more often!

You know, I’ve lied to myself. I’ve said every day, someday, someday your wish will be fulfilled and you’ll retrieve everything you’ve ever wanted. But here’s the reality, and oh, how much I loathe it. I’m not anywhere near where I want to be. I’m so far away, it is agenizing to sit here and just know that my heart may have this gaping hole for all eternity. It is just crazy to want something so intensely, that you start to believe you’ve gone completely insane, and I do so feel it! What does this mean? Does it mean that I am in fact insane? Or am I just falling in love with my fantasies?

There are days when I wake up, and I’m so confident! This is your day, this is your time, nobody not anybody can ruin it. BOOM! The curtain closes, end credits, it’s done, over, you’re immediately brought back down where you originally came from. I try, too. No, I don’t give up. I guess hope is what I’m gambling with. Hope can bring so much excitement, yet so much disappointment. When I see right in front of me something that makes me want to combust inside, I don’t want to lose that hope, because I rely on it.

It takes nearly all of me to get through something this complicated. Take love for example-hell I don’t know what the **** that is. Ask me about love and I’ll just respond, “Hearts and cuddles, kisses and snuggles.” I have no idea what love really means or even feels like. But lust, oh yeah I know exactly what that is. Love and lust battle one another. Oh, you love me? No, you lust me. Love I’m guessing has no real meaning, but a feeling. You probably can’t describe it, and maybe that’s why nobody really knows what it is until they experience it.

Lust, I’d say is 99% of what we feel towards another person. It is a fog, it’s there for a little while, then it is all gone. It’s a lie, it’s not love. It manipulates you, it is ecstasy, but it is also hell. When you say to me that you love me, I by no means can believe it. You lust me. You like me. You have interests, but it won’t last. And when that fog of lust surpasses, all of it is consumed and forever nonexistent. So if I was to allow lustful feelings to blindfold me, I’d only be leading myself into a heartbreak. I’d be lying to myself like I have been lately.

I say to myself, self, you are not in love, you are in lust. You don’t know what you’re doing. It is possible you are right, but you cannot ignore the possibility that you may be wrong. Don’t stop dreaming, but don’t allow the fog to trap you. Life is a maze, and you have no map. You’ll never know what’s lurking in the shadows, but what you do know is that you provide your own light, and with your luminescence, you will get to your destination safe and sound.

So stop lying to yourselves. Don’t give up hoping, but do try to see through your lustful ways. Dreams are not just for sleeping, you have all the power within you to make them real. Of course it’s difficult, life is a puzzle. So what are you doing just sitting here? Go and search for those pieces, and work hard to fit them together. No amount of hope is going to make your dreams come true alone, you have to partake in some effort or it’s just lusting all over again.

In this cruel,savage world every one hurts
But we have to find the worth suffering far
Every beautiful chick just desires and flirts
Hence portray themselves like northern star

Pain surpasses pleasure in a way so strange
All want to play with love in Satanic mood
Credence is to play part out of its given range
Facade seems innocent but mean and shrewd

Barter is the game and portray it as a charter
Just extend your love in exchange to hatred
Man is the real victim man is the silly starter
All is scattered and nothing is aligned to grid

Col Muhammad Khalid khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow

His long fingers clenched into their palms
His dark eyes were black with intent
Every elongated pause was an intricate harmony
gracefully accompanying the words
that tumbled from his cracked lips
He heightened himself and leaned in earnestly
Feverish want spilling into his rich voice
revealing the fear that had bloomed in his ribcage over the years
Fear that snaked up his throat and caught there
restricting his temperament
Fear that rose from knowledge of failure

Failure indeed lurked sickeningly
In the frosty air
In the purple autumn shadows
In the smell of hot cement
In the satiny pearl petals of the dogwood his mother had planted

He was a single smooth stone in an endless riverbed
Shaped by
the restlessness that flooded him
the desire that washed over him
the nostalgia that swept around him

Frantic to break out of the flow that was accepted by the crowds
Desperate for the peace that surpasses understanding

And in that moment
his finite experience and crooked path
meant less to her than the last of the cigarette she proceeded to flick into the breeze
Outweighed by her faith in the lighthearted boy trapped inside this troubled man's body

It begins here.

In the percolating silence
that lingers behind gritted teeth--
the loose threads on denim jeans
that only ever gets cut,
the landfall that prays
for minimal casualties
except each body bag
contained pieces of your heart
he could no longer mend --
a slightly-timed confession.

The end begins in the way
the essence of the beginning
becomes foreign.
We know about length measurements
from school,
but kilometers or feet
do not weave the tapestry
in spaces between two people.
Distance,
we forget,
surpasses the cataract-like
tunneled notion of
merely its quantitative value.

I see it in the way you've forgotten
how to make me laugh.
How you've got a grip
on my hand
and yet
I'm still reaching out.
How we walk on eggshells
around each other,
and traded in words
for daggers
or words
that didn't matter
enough to land on ears
that swell to listen.
Ticking bombs,
deep sighs,
feeble temperament
waiting for the softest nudge
to topple the tower,
and you’ve predicted
the catastrophe
long before a tandem
of hot flesh
had turned cold,
and bruised,
and hurting.
The galaxies
in our eyes,
rusty,
no longer colliding
into sweet solace—
you’ll realize that
you’ll always be in the
losing end
where you flaunt your
vulnerability
in plain sight
like a mannequin
on the other side
of the looking glass.

Let me stay for a bit.
Let me mourn what’s passed
and cherish
whatever’s left.

The Lord has smiled on your years
It was the Holy Spirit that continues to help you preserver
As God is always near
There were times you said enough is enough
But Mother ***, the Lord responded, I have added more years to your life
You have earned the years well
Your every footstep of pure confidence, everyone can tell
This Birthday wish is to motivate you to carry on
The idea is to remain strong
You have given me plenty of advice
As your Nephew, I never had to think twice
Your encouragement was like the fragrance of spice
I love you Dearly Aunt Margaret
But it is your humor accompanied with your Faith that truly instills in me
Your personality is the spread of salvation
It’s not a wonder, but an indication
Happy Birthday Aunt Margaret and long may you live
Continue the inspiration and smile that you give
You live your life to strive
Yet your wisdom surpasses even the number five
You are an Aunt of no nonsense and jive
An Aunt aiming for Heaven’s glory
Enough said, as this is your Nephew’s story
That’s my Aunt Margaret, a Mother and Grandmother to some, but an Aunt who will always be number one.

Life is a vast ocean and love is power to swim
Beauty is a light which just swarms on its brim
Odds and sacrifices make valiant to fly to trim
One who dares never encounters situation grim

Lover has boat of strength with its strong mast
With his love anchor he can encounter holocaust
Beauty with her graces can make him to blast
Time becomes still whether future, present,past

Love surmounts and surpass every eventuality
It takes on charge to abolish every fear and pity
In the company of sweetheart being smart,pretty
Love surpasses all hindrances and odds to be free

My love my sweetheart my evergreen love hope
Let us together swing on that eternal strong rope
Which is unique and universal in its real scope
With intoxication of seductive beauty I feel to dope

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow

A part, immutable, unseen,
Being, before itself had been,
Became. Like dew a triple queen
Shone as the void uncovered:
The silence of deep height was drawn
A veil across the silver dawn
On holy wings that hovered.

The music of three thoughts became
The beauty, that is one white flame,
The justice that surpasses shame,
The victory, the splendour,
The sacred fountain that is whirled
From depths beyond that older world
A new world to engender.

The kingdom is extended. Night
Dwells, and I contemplate the sight
That is not seeing, but the light
That secretly is kindled,
Though oft-time its most holy fire
Lacks oil, whene'er my own Desire
Before desire has dwindled.

I see the thin web binding me
With thirteen cords of unity
Toward the calm centre of the sea.
(O thou supernal mother!)
The triple light my path divides
To twain and fifty sudden sides
Each perfect as each other.

Now backwards, inwards still my mind
Must track the intangible and blind,
And seeking, shall securely find
Hidden in secret places
Fresh feasts for every soul that strives,
New life for many mystic lives,
And strange new forms and faces.

My mind still searches, and attains
By many days and many pains
To That which Is and Was and reigns
Shadowed in four and ten;
And loses self in sacred lands,
And cries and quickens, and understands
Beyond the first Amen.

Lying under trees, we breath.
As the wind dances in the leaves,
The blue sky pokes through the forest green.
Birds sing.
We enter sleep under the brown-gray bark
And we dream.
You dream of life,
And I of death.
We are connected.
As this tree's roots are to the very soil it's rooted in,
You're rooted in my heart.

I still lie here on top of the emerald grass,
And you have become one with this tree,
the roots embracing you in an everlasting slumber.
When the fall comes and the leaves fade to their reds and oranges
And finally plunge to the emerald sea below, I will be covered with you.
As winter stalks its way past fall, the first blankets lay atop,
And I lie there still covered in the remnants of you.
The roots of my heart shiver
And I leave to find warmth with the evergreen.

As spring enters, the weather surpasses,
Leaves return to your barren form.
I however shall not return for the thought
That I may not become part of the soil you remain rooted to,
Fear that we will not remain acquainted in the next life.
but I still live and breath.
And the conquest of this life will be over soon enough
And Then I might return to this spot----
Lying under trees.

Stunning she called the morning to gather it was her reflection that made all luminous and she
Turned from side to side all quarters of sun and shade settled in precise conforming feature it
Had no deviation it had no desire but was content to be her blossoming statement where her
Hair softly flowed down the sides and back was illusion and reality colliding slipping into a soft
Dark unspoken richness that defied appropriate telling her forehead was the first mold God
Used to make the first Angel from this creation dreams were first formed they arose mist like in
The quietest indulgence of the mind the eye brows were the seeding place of richest
Placements on fine porcelain it would begin the guessing of wonder how can such creation be
The eyes were jewels not mined in any worlds that we know cheeks aglow from fires deep
Within jungles unexplored by man the nose pristine you have to venture forth to rarest tents
Where nomads set in the midst of tapestry where inlaid golden folds lay with purist
Silver and emerald cloth and distilled breathing of goddesses and gave them a fitting that
Staggered the thoughts of those who came to look on these sights her lips were desire
Encapsulated in pink the entering of layers rivaled one another one on the top and between
Teeth a mix of ivory and pearl to be exposed was to lose ones breath and cast away
Reason briefly the chin the master stroke the line flowing from the ear was the perfect order
Holding all in eye appealing perfection the neck was enthralling understated composure
Shoulders rounded joining the graceful arms that premiered as musical a ***** that completes
Everything into perfection curvaceous loveliness man proclaims his strength woman surpasses
Him through soft quiet femininity that even assures his success through these powers that rise
Not from pride but from gifts that is profound and indescribable not better than man but the
best of man resides in her heart of hearts

I followed the lead,
Of my sinister caretaker
I was taught to serve my greed.
And we lived with men of no stature!

That was when my people, brown
Just free from the clutches of blond folk
We spoiled many men, who wore an unseen crown!
For our avarice grew of their prosperity’s scent.

We hooligans ruled the fear,
Of the humble and the righteous
They knew they lived in no ****** shire.
Our bare sight, rouse them nervous!

We revered no civil code
Vices and hatred our nub,
We belonged to no family, no abode.
No handcuffs strong enough to help curb!

Such was our thing, our cupidity,
To which none dare rise against!
Our victims seldom showed their agility,
For grief we inflict is a poor choice to endure.

The honest fell on my grime feet,
But how long will justice fail to prevail?
My hired judges failed to sow my ‘righteous’ seed,
And I was pushed into the chasm of evil to wail!

My life until death now lay waste,
These insidious walls seldom let me rest!
My wretched soul yearns to run away in haste
The very thought of freedom, a precious zest.

The days at first I numbered for a lost cause.
They made me hope, the very part I often stole,
From the just by virtue of my flaws!
At night I sit waiting for the sun to rise.

Those rays of light seem now as precious gold.
No prison mate was a heart of resort.
As a shoulder to cry upon and hold!
I yearn for a wise consort.

A woman like a mother, I wish.
Though a dream, I least have this liberty,
I feel blessed to have it to relish.
But I remind myself to repent for eternity.

I am reduced to a number,
I dread to now count!
Seldom have I got to be in a deep slumber,
My nightmares bark like a hound.

I stare out of the window,
As repentance flows out of my eyes
A woman came searching for me that fine day
The woman of a just man I once slay!

She didn’t have revenge in her mind
But pity and mercy like the viscous honey!
She bought sweets, I met someone kind!
I felt mortified of having robbed her man.

She claimed to instill goodness in me,
That there would be no disparity amongst us
If she choose to be passive and loathe!
That day after years I felt a bird sang to me of joy.

She preached to me of gods,
Of the same virtue but different form!
I prayed to them, one day a lord,
And soon watching her made my heart race!

For she was the only woman I knew
The only one I fell for,
A forbidden love, I fancy!
Soon she departed to her pristine abode
And with her left an eternal grace!

To this widow I owe my soul,
Her goodness makes me hope.
That I can be righteous and commit no foul
And this was a dream I sowed passion for.

I would stare out of the window
To see the birds soar high.
No mountain stopped their flight,
Nor a tree tempted them to rest.

Then when I heard of death’s call
And that my endowments lay unperformed
Her words proved to be true,
Hope surpasses the depth of every woe.

There lay a little of life to live,
A respite offered for a promise.
And they let me see the world,
All its grandeur, all its bounty!

It seemed nothing like yesterday
For they had taken from me
The chunk I should’ve valued most!
The world had risen in time,
And I was left with none.

But it felt akin to waking up
Like from a deep slumber,
In a place not known to me!
And every priceless breath I now took,
Like the first breath after coma,
The courtesy of the widow!

So
                     they
   say nothing can compare to
      the delicacies that claim
         our sky. High above,
      far beyond our air, lights
    break the               darkness.

                        I
                    must
admit to their magnificence; truly
       breathtaking. Is it such
         a coincidence, that
    your presence has similar
effects                           on me?

                        I
                    watch
their genuine glow, and wish you
     were there beside me; to
         share in this wonder.
        To gain the experience
      of true                 sublimity.

                        I
                    know
that if you were really there with
       me, my gaze would fall.
          No longer focusing
      on the sky, but instead
     upon                     your all.

                      And
                    because
these moments don't last forever-
      I know I could watch these
        stars whenever. But it
      wouldn't be us, together-
    I would              take it all in.

                       An
                  amazing
experience it is; the feeling of being
      close, to the one thing I've
         found that surpasses
      the stars I've seen, in both
   amazement        and in beauty

for some reason buying a toothpaste different from the one your mother always bought feels like a slap in the face
but that's called self-care
------
(floss so hard i hit my family's (invisible - psychic) line of grief)

(floss so hard you (i, we) get out the familial grief  in between your teeth)
----
that surpasses hers
is a slap in the face
the quality of my toothepast sitting next
my self bought toothepast sitting next to yours
surpassing


the new toothepaste i (just) bought for myself
surpasses the one you raised me on
what a slap in the face

my special bought toothepaste
sitting next to yours
surpassing your self care
what a slap in the face

Dark well
It swells
It grows
And drowns
A pool
So black
Thick pitch
Attacks

To smother
Don't bother
To crawl through
Small moth

The darkness
This thick glue
Inescapable
To you

Molasses
Surpasses
The will to escape

Sanity
Collapses
In the dark well
Of hate.

ITALIAN POETRY TRANSLATIONS

These are my modern English translations of the Roman, Latin and Italian poets Anonymous, Marcus Aurelius, Catullus, ***** Cavalcanti, Cicero, Dante Alighieri, Veronica Franco, ***** Guinizelli, Hadrian, Primo Levi, Martial, Michelangelo, Seneca, Seneca the Younger and Leonardo da Vinci. I also have translations of Latin poems by the English poets Aldhelm, Thomas Campion, Gildas and Saint Godric of Finchale.

Wall, I'm astonished that you haven't collapsed,
since you're holding up verses so prolapsed!
—Ancient Roman graffiti, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My objective is not to side with the majority, but to avoid the ranks of the insane.—Marcus Aurelius, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Little sparks ignite great Infernos.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation Michael R. Burch



MARTIAL

I must admit I'm partial
to Martial.
—Michael R. Burch

You ask me why I've sent you no new verses?
There might be reverses.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You ask me to recite my poems to you?
I know how you'll 'recite' them, if I do.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You ask me why I choose to live elsewhere?
You're not there.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You ask me why I love fresh country air?
You're not befouling it there.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You ask me why I love fresh country air?
You're not befouling it, mon frère.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



1.
You’ll find good poems, but mostly poor and worse,
my peers being “diverse” in their verse.

2.
Some good poems here, but most not worth a curse:
such is the crapshoot of a book of verse.

Sunt bona, sunt quaedam mediocria, sunt mala plura
quae legis hic: aliter non fit, Auite, liber.



He undertook to be a doctor
but turned out to be an undertaker.

Chirurgus fuerat, nunc est uispillo Diaulus:
coepit quo poterat clinicus esse modo.



1.
The book you recite from, Fidentinus, was my own,
till your butchering made it yours alone.

2.
The book you recite from I once called my own,
but you read it so badly, it’s now yours alone.

3.
You read my book as if you wrote it,
but you read it so badly I’ve come to hate it.

Quem recitas meus est, o Fidentine, libellus:
sed male *** recitas, incipit esse tuus.



Recite my epigrams? I decline,
for then they’d be yours, not mine.

Ut recitem tibi nostra rogas epigrammata. Nolo:
non audire, Celer, sed recitare cupis.



I do not love you, but cannot say why.
I do not love you: no reason, no lie.

Non amo te, Sabidi, nec possum dicere quare:
hoc tantum possum dicere, non amo te.



You’re young and lovely, wealthy too,
but that changes nothing: you’re a shrew.

Bella es, nouimus, et puella, uerum est,
et diues, quis enim potest negare?
Sed *** te nimium, Fabulla, laudas,
nec diues neque bella nec puella es.


You never wrote a poem,
yet criticize mine?
Stop abusing me or write something fine
of your own!
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

He starts everything but finishes nothing;
thus I suspect there's no end to his *******.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You dine in great magnificence
while offering guests a pittance.
Sextus, did you invite
friends to dinner tonight
to impress us with your enormous appetite?
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You alone own prime land, dandy!
Gold, money, the finest porcelain—you alone!
The best wines of the most famous vintages—you alone!
Discrimination, taste and wit—you alone!
You have it all—who can deny that you alone are set for life?
But everyone has had your wife—
she is never alone!
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

To you, my departed parents, dear mother and father,
I commend my little lost angel, Erotion, love's daughter,
who died six days short of completing her sixth frigid winter.
Protect her now, I pray, should the chilling dark shades appear;
muzzle hell's three-headed hound, less her heart be dismayed!
Lead her to romp in some sunny Elysian glade,
her devoted patrons. Watch her play childish games
as she excitedly babbles and lisps my name.
Let no hard turf smother her softening bones; and do
rest lightly upon her, earth, she was surely no burden to you!
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

To you, my departed parents, with much emotion,
I commend my little lost darling, my much-kissed Erotion,
who died six days short of completing her sixth bitter winter.
Protect her, I pray, from hell's hound and its dark shades a-flitter;
and please don't let fiends leave her maiden heart dismayed!
But lead her to romp in some sunny Elysian glade
with her cherished friends, excitedly lisping my name.
Let no hard turf smother her softening bones; and do
rest lightly upon her, earth, she was such a slight burden to you!
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Epitaph for the Child Erotion
by Marcus Valerius Martial
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Lie lightly on her, grass and dew ...
So little weight she placed on you.

I created this translation after the Nashville Covenant school shooting and dedicated it to the victims of the massacre.



CATULLUS

Catullus LXXXV: 'Odi et Amo'
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I hate. I love.
You ask, 'Why not refrain?'
I wish I could explain.
I can't, but feel the pain.

2.
I hate. I love.
Why? Heavens above!
I wish I could explain.
I can't, but feel the pain.

3.
I hate. I love.
How can that be, turtledove?
I wish I could explain.
I can't, but feel the pain.



Catullus CVI: 'That Boy'
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

See that young boy, by the auctioneer?
He's so pretty he sells himself, I fear!



Catullus LI: 'That Man'
This is Catullus's translation of a poem by Sappho of ******
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I'd call that man the equal of the gods,
or,
could it be forgiven
in heaven,
their superior,
because to him space is given
to bask in your divine presence,
to gaze upon you, smile, and listen
to your ambrosial laughter
which leaves men senseless
here and hereafter.

Meanwhile, in my misery,
I'm left speechless.

Lesbia, there's nothing left of me
but a voiceless tongue grown thick in my mouth
and a thin flame running south...

My limbs tingle, my ears ring, my eyes water
till they swim in darkness.

Call it leisure, Catullus, or call it idleness,
whatever it is that incapacitates you.
By any other name it's the nemesis
fallen kings, empires and cities rue.



Catullus 1 ('cui dono lepidum novum libellum')        
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

To whom do I dedicate this novel book
polished drily with a pumice stone?
To you, Cornelius, for you would look
content, as if my scribblings took
the cake, when in truth you alone
unfolded Italian history in three scrolls,
as learned as Jupiter in your labors.
Therefore, this little book is yours,
whatever it is, which, O patron Maiden,
I pray will last more than my lifetime!



Catullus XLIX: 'A Toast to Cicero'
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Cicero, please confess:
You're drunk on your success!
All men of good taste attest
That you're the very best—
At making speeches, first class!
While I'm the dregs of the glass.



Catullus CI: 'His Brother's Burial'
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Through many lands and over many seas
I have journeyed, brother, to these wretched rites,
to this final acclamation of the dead...
and to speak — however ineffectually — to your voiceless ashes
now that Fate has wrested you away from me.
Alas, my dear brother, wrenched from my arms so cruelly,
accept these last offerings, these small tributes
blessed by our fathers' traditions, these small gifts for the dead.
Please accept, by custom, these tokens drenched with a brother's tears,
and, for all eternity, brother, 'Hail and Farewell.'

2.
Through many lands and over many seas
I have journeyed, brother, to these wretched rites,
to this final acclamation of the dead...
and to speak — however ineffectually — to your voiceless ashes
now that Fate has wrested you away from me.
Alas, my dear brother, wrenched from my arms so cruelly,
accept these small tributes, these last gifts,
offered in the time-honored manner of our fathers,
these final votives. Please accept, by custom,
these tokens drenched with a brother's tears,
and, for all eternity, brother, 'Hail and Farewell.'

[Here 'offered in the time-honored manner of our fathers' is from another translation by an unknown translator.]

[What do the gods know, with their superior airs,
wiser than a mother's tears
for her lost child?
If they had hearts, surely they would be beguiled,
repeal the sentence of death!
Since they have none,
or only hearts of stone,
believers, save your breath.
—Michael R. Burch, after Catullus]



Catullus IIA: 'Lesbia's Sparrow'
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Sparrow, my sweetheart's pet,
with whom she plays cradled to her breast,
or in her lap,
giving you her fingertip to peck,
provoking you to nip its nib...
Whenever she's flushed with pleasure
my gorgeous darling plays such dear little games:
to relieve her longings, I suspect,
until her ardour abates.
Oh, if only I could play with you as gaily,
and alleviate my own longings!



Catullus V: 'Let us live, Lesbia, let us love'
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Let us live, Lesbia, let us love,
and let the judgments of ancient moralists
count less than a farthing to us!

Suns may set then rise again,
but when our brief light sets,
we will sleep through perpetual night.

Give me a thousand kisses, a hundred more,
another thousand, then a second hundred,
yet another thousand, then a third hundred...

Then, once we've tallied the many thousands,
let's jumble the ledger, so that even we
(and certainly no malicious, evil-eyed enemy)        
will ever know there were so many kisses!



Catullus VII: 'How Many Kisses'
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You ask, Lesbia, how many kisses
are enough, or more than enough, to satisfy me?

As many as the Libyan sands
swirling in incense-bearing Cyrene
between the torrid oracle of Jove
and the sacred tomb of Battiades.

Or as many as the stars observing amorous men
making love furtively on a moonless night.

As many of your kisses are enough,
and more than enough, for mad Catullus,
as long as there are too many to be counted by inquisitors
and by malicious-tongued bewitchers.



Catullus VIII: 'Advice to Himself'
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Snap out of it Catullus, stop this foolishness!
It's time to cut losses!
What is dead is gone, accept it.
Once brilliant suns shone on you both,
when you trotted about wherever she led,
and loved her as never another before.
That was a time of such happiness,
when your desire intersected her will.
But now she doesn't want you any more.
Be resolute, weak as you are, stop chasing mirages!
What you need is not love, but a clean break.
Goodbye girl, now Catullus stands firm.
Never again Lesbia! Catullus is clear:
He won't miss you. Won't crave you. Catullus is cold.
Now it's you who will grieve, when nobody calls.
It's you who will weep that you're ruined.
Who'll submit to you now? Admire your beauty?
Whom will you love? Whose girl will you be?
Who will you kiss? Whose lips will you bite?
But you, Catullus, you must break with the past, hold fast.



Catullus LX: 'Lioness'
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Did an African mountain lioness
or a howling Scylla beget you from the nether region of her *****,
my harsh goddess? Are you so pitiless you would hold in contempt
this supplicant voicing his inconsolable despair?
Are you really that cruel-hearted?

Catullus LXX: 'Marriage Vows'
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My sweetheart says she'd marry no one else but me,
not even Jupiter, if he were to ask her!
But what a girl says to her eager lover
ought to be written on the wind or in running water.



CICERO

The famous Roman orator Cicero employed 'tail rhyme' in this pun:

O Fortunatam natam me consule Romam.
O fortunate natal Rome, to be hatched by me!
—Cicero, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



MICHELANGELO

Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564) is considered by many experts to be the greatest artist and sculptor of all time. He was also a great poet.

Michelangelo Epigram Translations
loose translations/interpretations by Michael R. Burch

I saw the angel in the marble and freed him.
I hewed away the coarse walls imprisoning the lovely apparition.
Each stone contains a statue; it is the sculptor's task to release it.
The danger is not aiming too high and missing, but aiming too low and hitting the mark.
Our greatness is only bounded by our horizons.
Be at peace, for God did not create us to abandon us.
God grant that I always desire more than my capabilities.
My soul's staircase to heaven is earth's loveliness.
I live and love by God's peculiar light.
Trifles create perfection, yet perfection is no trifle.
Genius is infinitely patient, and infinitely painstaking.
I have never found salvation in nature; rather I love cities.
He who follows will never surpass.
Beauty is what lies beneath superfluities.
I criticize via creation, not by fault-finding.
If you knew how hard I worked, you wouldn't call it 'genius.'



SONNET: RAVISHED
by Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564)        
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Ravished, by all our eyes find fine and fair,
yet starved for virtues pure hearts might confess,
my soul can find no Jacobean stair
that leads to heaven, save earth's loveliness.
The stars above emit such rapturous light
our longing hearts ascend on beams of Love
and seek, indeed, Love at its utmost height.
But where on earth does Love suffice to move
a gentle heart, or ever leave it wise,
save for beauty itself and the starlight in her eyes?



SONNET: TO LUIGI DEL RICCIO, AFTER THE DEATH OF CECCHINO BRACCI
by Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564)        
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A pena prima.

I had barely seen the beauty of his eyes
Which unto yours were life itself, and light,
When he closed them fast in death's eternal night
To reopen them on God, in Paradise.

In my tardiness, I wept, too late made wise,
Yet the fault not mine: for death's disgusting ploy
Had robbed me of that deep, unfathomable joy
Which in your loving memory never dies.

Therefore, Luigi, since the task is mine
To make our unique friend smile on, in stone,
Forever brightening what dark earth would dim,
And because the Beloved causes love to shine,

And since the artist cannot work alone,
I must carve you, to tell the world of him!



BEAUTY AND THE ARTIST
by Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564)        
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Al cor di zolfo.

A heart aflame; alas, the flesh not so;
Bones brittle wood; the soul without a guide
To curb the will's inferno; the crude pride
Of restless passions' pulsing surge and flow;

A witless mind that - halt, lame, weak - must go
Blind through entrapments scattered far and wide; ...
Why wonder then, when one small spark applied
To such an assemblage, renders it aglow?

Add beauteous Art, which, Heaven-Promethean,
Must exceed nature - so divine a power
Belongs to those who strive with every nerve.
Created for such Art, from childhood given
As prey for her Infernos to devour,
I blame the Mistress I was born to serve.



SONNET XVI: LOVE AND ART
by Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564)        
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Sì come nella penna.

Just as with pen and ink,
there is a high, a low, and an in-between style;
and, as marble yields its images pure and vile
to excite the fancies artificers might think;
even so, my lord, lodged deep within your heart
are mingled pride and mild humility;
but I draw only what I truly see
when I trust my eyes and otherwise stand apart.
Whoever sows the seeds of tears and sighs
(bright dews that fall from heaven, crystal-clear)        
in various pools collects antiquities
and so must reap old griefs through misty eyes;
while the one who dwells on beauty, so painful here,
finds ephemeral hopes and certain miseries.



SONNET XXXI: LOVE'S LORDSHIP, TO TOMMASO DE' CAVALIERI
by Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564)        
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A che più debb' io.

Am I to confess my heart's desire
with copious tears and windy words of grief,
when a merciless heaven offers no relief
to souls consumed by fire?

Why should my aching heart aspire
to life, when all must die? Beyond belief
would be a death delectable and brief,
since in my compound woes all joys expire!

Therefore, because I cannot dodge the blow,
I rather seek whoever rules my breast,
to glide between her gladness and my woe.
If only chains and bonds can make me blessed,
no marvel if alone and bare I go
to face the foe: her captive slave oppressed.



LEONARDO DA VINCI

Once we have flown, we will forever walk the earth with our eyes turned heavenward, for there we were and will always long to return.—Leonardo da Vinci, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The great achievers rarely relaxed and let things happen to them. They set out and kick-started whatever happened.—Leonardo da Vinci, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Nothing enables authority like silence.—Leonardo da Vinci, translation by Michael R. Burch

The greatest deceptions spring from men's own opinions.—Leonardo da Vinci, translation by Michael R. Burch

There are three classes of people: Those who see by themselves. Those who see only when they are shown. Those who refuse to see.—Leonardo da Vinci, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Blinding ignorance misleads us. Myopic mortals, open your eyes! —Leonardo da Vinci, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

It is easier to oppose evil from the beginning than at the end.—Leonardo da Vinci, translation by Michael R. Burch

Small minds continue to shrink, but those whose hearts are firm and whose consciences endorse their conduct, will persevere until death.—Leonardo da Vinci, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I am impressed with the urgency of doing. Knowledge is not enough; we must apply ourselves. Wanting and being willing are insufficient; we must act.—Leonardo da Vinci, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Time is sufficient for anyone who uses it wisely.—Leonardo da Vinci, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Where the spirit does not aid and abet the hand there is no art.—Leonardo da Vinci, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Necessity is the mistress of mother nature's inventions.—Leonardo da Vinci, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Nature has no effect without cause, no invention without necessity.—Leonardo da Vinci, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Did Leonardo da Vinci anticipate Darwin with his comments about Nature and necessity being the mistress of her inventions? Yes, and his studies of comparative anatomy, including the intestines, led da Vinci to say explicitly that 'apes, monkeys and the like' are not merely related to humans but are 'almost of the same species.' He was, indeed, a man ahead of his time, by at least 350 years.



Excerpts from 'Paragone of Poetry and Painting' and Other Writings
by Leonardo da Vinci, circa 1500
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Sculpture requires light, received from above,
while a painting contains its own light and shade.

Painting is the more beautiful, the more imaginative, the more copious,
while sculpture is merely the more durable.

Painting encompasses infinite possibilities
which sculpture cannot command.
But you, O Painter, unless you can make your figures move,
are like an orator who can't bring his words to life!

While as soon as the Poet abandons nature, he ceases to resemble the Painter;
for if the Poet abandons the natural figure for flowery and flattering speech,
he becomes an orator and is thus neither Poet nor Painter.

Painting is poetry seen but not heard,
while poetry is painting heard but not seen.

And if the Poet calls painting dumb poetry,
the Painter may call poetry blind painting.

Yet poor is the pupil who fails to surpass his master!
Shun those studies in which the work dies with the worker.

Because I find no subject especially useful or pleasing
and because those who preceded me appropriated every useful theme,
I will be like the beggar who comes late to the fair,
who must content himself with other buyers' rejects.

Thus, I will load my humble cart full of despised and rejected merchandise,
the refuse of so many other buyers,
and I will go about distributing it, not in the great cities,
but in the poorer towns,
selling at discounts whatever the wares I offer may be worth.

And what can I do when a woman plucks my heart?
Alas, how she plays me, and yet I must persist!



The Point
by Leonardo da Vinci
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Here forms, colors, the character of the entire universe, contract to a point,
and that point is miraculous, marvelous …
O marvelous, O miraculous, O stupendous Necessity!
By your elegant laws you compel every effect to be the direct result of its cause,
by the shortest path possible.
Such are your miracles!



VERONICA FRANCO

Veronica Franco (1546-1591) was a Venetian courtesan who wrote literary-quality poetry and prose.

A Courtesan's Love Lyric (I)      
by Veronica Franco
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My rewards will be commensurate with your gifts
if only you give me the one that lifts
me laughing...
And though it costs you nothing,
still it is of immense value to me.
Your reward will be
not just to fly
but to soar, so high
that your joys vastly exceed your desires.
And my beauty, to which your heart aspires
and which you never tire of praising,
I will employ for the raising
of your spirits. Then, lying sweetly at your side,
I will shower you with all the delights of a bride,
which I have more expertly learned.
Then you who so fervently burned
will at last rest, fully content,
fallen even more deeply in love, spent
at my comfortable *****.
When I am in bed with a man I blossom,
becoming completely free
with the man who loves and enjoys me.

Here is a second version of the same poem...

I Resolved to Make a Virtue of My Desire (II)      
by Veronica Franco
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My rewards will match your gifts
If you give me the one that lifts
Me, laughing. If it comes free,
Still, it is of immense value to me.
Your reward will be—not just to fly,
But to soar—so incredibly high
That your joys eclipse your desires
(As my beauty, to which your heart aspires
And which you never tire of praising,
I employ for your spirit's raising) .
Afterwards, lying docile at your side,
I will grant you all the delights of a bride,
Which I have more expertly learned.
Then you, who so fervently burned,
Will at last rest, fully content,
Fallen even more deeply in love, spent
At my comfortable *****.
When I am in bed with a man I blossom,
Becoming completely free
With the man who freely enjoys me.



Capitolo 24
by Veronica Franco
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

(written by Franco to a man who had insulted a woman)        

Please try to see with sensible eyes
how grotesque it is for you
to insult and abuse women!
Our unfortunate *** is always subject
to such unjust treatment, because we
are dominated, denied true freedom!
And certainly we are not at fault
because, while not as robust as men,
we have equal hearts, minds and intellects.
Nor does virtue originate in power,
but in the vigor of the heart, mind and soul:
the sources of understanding;
and I am certain that in these regards
women lack nothing,
but, rather, have demonstrated
superiority to men.
If you think us 'inferior' to yourself,
perhaps it's because, being wise,
we outdo you in modesty.
And if you want to know the truth,
the wisest person is the most patient;
she squares herself with reason and with virtue;
while the madman thunders insolence.
The stone the wise man withdraws from the well
was flung there by a fool...



When I bed a man
who—I sense—truly loves and enjoys me,
I become so sweet and so delicious
that the pleasure I bring him surpasses all delight,
till the tight
knot of love,
however slight
it may have seemed before,
is raveled to the core.
—Veronica Franco, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



We danced a youthful jig through that fair city—
Venice, our paradise, so pompous and pretty.
We lived for love, for primal lust and beauty;
to please ourselves became our only duty.
Floating there in a fog between heaven and earth,
We grew drunk on excesses and wild mirth.
We thought ourselves immortal poets then,
Our glory endorsed by God's illustrious pen.
But paradise, we learned, is fraught with error,
and sooner or later love succumbs to terror.
—Veronica Franco, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



I wish it were not a sin to have liked it so.
Women have not yet realized the cowardice that resides,
for if they should decide to do so,
they would be able to fight you until death;
and to prove that I speak the truth,
amongst so many women,
I will be the first to act,
setting an example for them to follow.
—Veronica Franco, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



ANONYMOUS

The poem below is based on my teenage misinterpretation of a Latin prayer...

Elegy for a little girl, lost
by Michael R. Burch

for my mother, Christine Ena Burch, who was always a little girl at heart

... qui laetificat juventutem meam...
She was the joy of my youth,
and now she is gone.
... requiescat in pace...
May she rest in peace.
... amen...

Amen

I was touched by this Latin prayer, which I discovered in a novel I read as a teenager. I later decided to incorporate it into a poem, which I started in high school and revised as an adult. From what I now understand, 'ad deum qui laetificat juventutem meam' means 'to the God who gives joy to my youth, ' but I am sticking with my original interpretation: a lament for a little girl at her funeral. The phrase can be traced back to Saint Jerome's translation of Psalm 42 in the Latin Vulgate Bible (circa 385 AD) . I can't remember exactly when I read the novel or wrote the poem, but I believe it was around my junior year of high school, age 17 or thereabouts. This was my first translation. I revised the poem slightly in 2001 after realizing I had 'misremembered' one of the words in the Latin prayer.



The Latin hymn 'Dies Irae' employs end rhyme:

Dies irae, dies illa
Solvet saeclum in favilla
***** David *** Sybilla

The day of wrath, that day
which will leave the world ash-gray,
was foretold by David and the Sybil fey.
—attributed to Thomas of Celano, St. Gregory the Great, St. Bernard of Clairvaux, and St. Bonaventure; loose translation by Michael R. Burch



HADRIAN

Hadrian's Elegy
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My delicate soul,
now aimlessly fluttering... drifting... unwhole,
former consort of my failing corpse...
Where are we going—from bad to worse?
From jail to a hearse?
Where do we wander now—fraught, pale and frail?
To hell?
To some place devoid of jests, mirth, happiness?
Is the joke on us?



THOMAS CAMPION

NOVELTIES
by Thomas Campion
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Booksellers laud authors for novel editions
as p-mps praise their wh-res for exotic positions.



PRIMO LEVI

These are my translations of poems by the Italian Jewish Holocaust survivor Primo Levi.

Shema
by Primo Levi
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You who live secure
in your comfortable houses,
who return each evening to find
warm food,
welcoming faces...
consider whether this is a man:
who toils in the mud,
who knows no peace,
who fights for crusts of bread,
who dies at another man's whim,
at his 'yes' or his 'no.'
Consider whether this is a woman:
bereft of hair,
of a recognizable name
because she lacks the strength to remember,
her eyes as void
and her womb as frigid
as a frog's in winter.
Consider that such horrors have been:
I commend these words to you.
Engrave them in your hearts
when you lounge in your house,
when you walk outside,
when you go to bed,
when you rise.
Repeat them to your children,
or may your house crumble
and disease render you helpless
so that even your offspring avert their faces from you.



Buna
by Primo Levi
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Wasted feet, cursed earth,
the interminable gray morning
as Buna smokes corpses through industrious chimneys.
A day like every other day awaits us.
The terrible whistle shrilly announces dawn:
'You, O pale multitudes with your sad, lifeless faces,
welcome the monotonous horror of the mud...
another day of suffering has begun.'
Weary companion, I see you by heart.
I empathize with your dead eyes, my disconsolate friend.
In your breast you carry cold, hunger, nothingness.
Life has broken what's left of the courage within you.
Colorless one, you once were a strong man,
A courageous woman once walked at your side.
But now you, my empty companion, are bereft of a name,
my forsaken friend who can no longer weep,
so poor you can no longer grieve,
so tired you no longer can shiver with fear.
O, spent once-strong man,
if we were to meet again
in some other world, sweet beneath the sun,
with what kind faces would we recognize each other?

Note: Buna was the largest Auschwitz sub-camp.



ALDHELM

'The Leiden Riddle' is an Old English translation of Aldhelm's Latin riddle 'Lorica' or 'Corselet.'

The Leiden Riddle
anonymous Old English riddle poem, circa 700
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The dank earth birthed me from her icy womb.
I know I was not fashioned from woolen fleeces;
nor was I skillfully spun from skeins;
I have neither warp nor weft;
no thread thrums through me in the thrashing loom;
nor do whirring shuttles rattle me;
nor does the weaver's rod assail me;
nor did silkworms spin me like skillfull fates
into curious golden embroidery.
And yet heroes still call me an excellent coat.
Nor do I fear the dread arrows' flights,
however eagerly they leap from their quivers.

Solution: a coat of mail.



SAINT GODRIC OF FINCHALE

The song below is said in the 'Life of Saint Godric' to have come to Godric when he had a vision of his sister Burhcwen, like him a solitary at Finchale, being received into heaven. She was singing a song of thanksgiving, in Latin, and Godric renders her song in English bracketed by a Kyrie eleison.

Led By Christ and Mary
by Saint Godric of Finchale (1065-1170)        
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

By Christ and Saint Mary I was so graciously led
that the earth never felt my bare foot's tread!



DANTE

Translations of Dante Epigrams and Quotes by Michael R. Burch

Little sparks may ignite great Infernos.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

In Beatrice I beheld the outer boundaries of blessedness.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

She made my veins and even the pulses within them tremble.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Her sweetness left me intoxicated.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Love commands me by determining my desires.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Follow your own path and let the bystanders gossip.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The devil is not as dark as depicted.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

There is no greater sorrow than to recall how we delighted in our own wretchedness.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

As he, who with heaving lungs escaped the suffocating sea, turns to regard its perilous waters.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

O human race, born to soar heavenward, why do you nosedive in the mildest breeze? —Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

O human race, born to soar heavenward, why do you quail at the least breath of wind? —Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Midway through my life's journey
I awoke to find myself lost in a trackless wood,
for I had strayed far from the straight path.
—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



INSCRIPTION ON THE GATE OF HELL

Before me nothing existed, to fear.
Eternal I am, and eternal I endure.
Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.
—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Excerpts from LA VITA NUOVA
by Dante Alighieri

Ecce deus fortior me, qui veniens dominabitur mihi.
Here is a Deity, stronger than myself, who comes to dominate me.
—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Apparuit iam beatitudo vestra.
Your blessedness has now been manifested unto you.
—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Heu miser! quia frequenter impeditus ero deinceps.
Alas, how often I will be restricted now!
—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Fili mi, tempus est ut prætermittantur simulata nostra.
My son, it is time to cease counterfeiting.
—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Ego tanquam centrum circuli, cui simili modo se habent circumferentiæ partes: tu autem non sic.
Love said: 'I am as the center of a harmonious circle; everything is equally near me. No so with you.'
—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Translations of Dante Cantos by Michael R. Burch

Paradiso, Canto III: 1-33, The Revelation of Love and Truth
by Dante Alighieri
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

That sun, which had inflamed my breast with love,
Had now revealed to me—as visions move—
The gentle and confounding face of Truth.
Thus I, by her sweet grace and love reproved,
Corrected, and to true confession moved,
Raised my bowed head and found myself behooved
To speak, as true admonishment required,
And thus to bless the One I so desired,
When I was awed to silence! This transpired:
As the outlines of men's faces may amass
In mirrors of transparent, polished glass,
Or in shallow waters through which light beams pass
(Even so our eyes may easily be fooled
By pearls, or our own images, thus pooled) :
I saw a host of faces, pale and lewd,
All poised to speak; but when I glanced around
There suddenly was no one to be found.
A pool, with no Narcissus to astound?
But then I turned my eyes to my sweet Guide.
With holy eyes aglow and smiling wide,
She said, 'They are not here because they lied.'



Excerpt from 'Paradiso'
by Dante Alighieri
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

O ****** Mother, daughter of your Son,
Humble, and yet held high, above creation,
You are the apex of all Wisdom known!
You are the Pinnacle of human nature,
Your nobility instilled by its Creator
who was not shamed to be born with your features.
Love was engendered in your perfect womb
Where warmth and holy peace were given room
For heaven's Perfect Rose, once sown, to bloom.
Now unto us you are a Torch held high:
Our noonday Sun—the Light of Charity,
Our Wellspring of all Hope, a living Sea.
Madonna, so pure, high and all-availing,
The man who desires Grace of you, though failing,
Despite his grounded state, is given wing!
Your mercy does not fail us, Ever-Blessed!
Indeed, the one who asks may find his wish
Unneeded: you predicted his request!
You are our Mercy; you are our Compassion;
you are Magnificence; in you creation
becomes the sum of Goodness and Salvation.



Translations of Dante Sonnets by Michael R. Burch

Sonnet: 'A Vision of Love' or 'Love's Faithful Ones' from LA VITA NUOVA
by Dante Alighieri
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

To every gentle heart true Love may move,
And unto whom my words must now be brought
For wise interpretation's tender thought—
I greet you in our Lord's name, which is Love.
Through night's last watch, as winking stars, above,
Kept their high vigil over men, distraught,
Love came to me, with such dark terrors fraught
As mortals may not casually speak of.
Love seemed a being of pure Joy and held
My heart, pulsating. On his other arm,
My lady, wrapped in thinnest gossamers, slept.
He, having roused her from her sleep, then made
My heart her feast—devoured, with alarm.
Love then departed; as he left, he wept.



Sonnet: 'Love's Thoroughfare' from LA VITA NUOVA
by Dante Alighieri
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

'O voi che par la via'

All those who travel Love's worn tracks,
Pause here awhile, and ask
Has there ever been a grief like mine?
Pause here, from that mad race,
And with patience hear my case:
Is it not a piteous marvel and a sign?
Love, not because I played a part,
But only due to his great heart,
Afforded me a provenance so sweet
That often others, as I went,
Asked what such unfair gladness meant:
They whispered things behind me in the street.
But now that easy gait is gone
Along with all Love proffered me;
And so in time I've come to be
So poor I dread to think thereon.
And thus I have become as one
Who hides his shame of his poverty,
Pretending richness outwardly,
While deep within I moan.



Sonnet: 'Cry for Pity' from LA VITA NUOVA
by Dante Alighieri
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

These thoughts lie shattered in my memory:
When through the past I see your lovely face.
When you are near me, thus, Love fills all Space,
And often whispers, 'Is death better? Fly! '
My face reflects my heart's contentious tide,
Which, ebbing, seeks some shallow resting place;
Till, in the blushing shame of such disgrace,
The very earth seems to be shrieking, 'Die! '
'Twould be a grievous sin, if one should not
Relay some comfort to my harried mind,
If only with some simple pitying thought
For this great anguish which fierce scorn has wrought
Through the faltering sight of eyes grown nearly blind,
Which search for death now, as a blessed thing.



Sonnet: 'Ladies of Modest Countenance' from LA VITA NUOVA
by Dante Alighieri
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You who wear a modest countenance
With eyelids weighted by such heaviness,
How is it, that among you every face
Is haunted by the same pale troubled glance?
Have you seen in my lady's face, perchance,
the grief that Love provokes despite her grace?
Confirm this thing is so, then in her place,
Complete your grave and sorrowful advance.
And if indeed you match her heartfelt sighs
And mourn, as she does, for her heart's relief,
Then tell Love how it fares with her, to him.
Love knows how you have wept, seen in your eyes,
And is so grieved by gazing on your grief,
His courage falters and his sight grows dim.



Translations of Poems by Other Italian Poets

Sonnet IV: ‘S'io prego questa donna che Pietate'
by ***** Cavalcante
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

If I should ask this lady, in her grace,
not to make her heart my enemy,
she'd call me foolish, venturing: 'No man
was ever possessed of such strange vanity! '
Why such harsh judgements, written on a face
where once I'd thought to find humility,
true gentleness, calm wisdom, courtesy?
My soul despairs, unwilling to embrace
the sighs and griefs that flood my drowning heart,
the rains of tears that well my watering eyes,
the miseries to which my soul's condemned...
For through my mind there flows, as rivers part,
the image of a lady, full of thought,
through heartlessness became a thoughtless friend.



***** Guinizelli, also known as ***** di Guinizzello di Magnano, was born in Bologna. He became an esteemed Italian love poet and is considered to be the father of the 'dolce stil nuovo' or 'sweet new style.' Dante called him 'il saggio' or 'the sage.'

Sonetto
by ***** Guinizelli
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

In truth I sing her honor and her praise:
My lady, with whom flowers can't compare!
Like Diana, she unveils her beauty's rays,
Then makes the dawn unfold here, bright and fair!
She's like the wind and like the leaves they swell:
All hues, all colors, flushed and pale, beside...
Argent and gold and rare stones' brilliant spell;
Even Love, itself, in her, seems glorified.
She moves in ways so tender and so sweet,
Pride fails and falls and flounders at her feet.
The impure heart cannot withstand such light!
Ungentle men must wither, at her sight.
And still this greater virtue I aver:
No man thinks ill once he's been touched by her.



GILDAS TRANSLATIONS

These are my modern English translations of Latin poems by the English monk Gildas. Gildas, also known as Gildas Sapiens (“Gildas the Wise”), was a 6th-century British monk who is one of the first native writers of the British Isles we know by name. Gildas is remembered for his scathing religious polemic De Excidio et Conquestu Britanniae (“On the Ruin and Conquest of Britain” or simply “On the Ruin of Britain”). The work has been dated to circa 480-550 AD.

“Alas! The nature of my complaint is the widespread destruction of all that was good, followed by the wild proliferation of evil throughout the land. Normally, I would grieve with my motherland in her travail and rejoice in her revival. But for now I restrict myself to relating the sins of an indolent and slothful race, rather than the feats of heroes. For ten years I kept my silence, I confess, with much mental anguish, guilt and remorse, while I debated these things within myself...” — Gildas, The Ruin of Britain, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Gildas is also remembered for his “Lorica” (“Breastplate”):

“The Lorica of Loding” from the Book of Cerne
by Gildas
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Trinity in Unity, shield and preserve me!
Unity in Trinity, have mercy on me!

Preserve me, I pray, from all dangers:
dangers which threaten to overwhelm me
like surging sea waves;
neither let mortality
nor worldly vanity
sweep me away from the safe harbor of Your embrace!

Furthermore, I respectfully request:
send the exalted, mighty hosts of heaven!
Let them not abandon me
to be destroyed by my enemies,
but let them defend me always
with their mighty shields and bucklers.

Allow Your heavenly host
to advance before me:
Cherubim and Seraphim by the thousands,
led by the Archangels Michael and Gabriel!

Send, I implore, these living thrones,
these principalities, powers and Angels,
so that I may remain strong,
defended against the deluge of enemies
in life’s endless battles!

May Christ, whose righteous Visage frightens away foul throngs,
remain with me in a powerful covenant!

May God the Unconquerable Guardian
defend me on every side with His power!

Free my manacled limbs,
cover them with Your shielding grace,
leaving heaven-hurled demons helpless to hurt me,
to pierce me with their devious darts!

Lord Jesus Christ, be my sure armor, I pray!

Cover me, O God, with Your impenetrable breastplate!

Cover me so that, from head to toe,
no member is exposed, within or without;
so that life is not exorcized from my body
by plague, by fever, by weakness, or by suffering.

Until, with the gift of old age granted by God,
I depart this flesh, free from the stain of sin,
free to fly to those heavenly heights,
where, by the grace of God, I am borne in joy
into the cool retreats of His heavenly kingdom!

Amen

#GILDAS #LATIN #LORICA #RUIN #MRBGILDAS #MRBLATIN #MRBLORICA #MRBRUIN



This is a poem of mine that has been translated into Italian by Comasia Aquaro.

Her Grace Flows Freely
by Michael R. Burch

July 7,2007

Her love is always chaste, and pure.
This I vow. This I aver.
If she shows me her grace, I will honor her.
This I vow. This I aver.
Her grace flows freely, like her hair.
This I vow. This I aver.
For her generousness, I would worship her.
This I vow. This I aver.
I will not **** her for what I bear
This I vow. This I aver.
like a most precious incense-desire for her,
This I vow. This I aver.
nor call her '*****' where I seek to repair.
This I vow. This I aver.
I will not wink, nor smirk, nor stare
This I vow. This I aver.
like a foolish child at the foot of a stair
This I vow. This I aver.
where I long to go, should another be there.
This I vow. This I aver.
I'll rejoice in her freedom, and always dare
This I vow. This I aver.
the chance that she'll flee me-my starling rare.
This I vow. This I aver.
And then, if she stays, without stays, I swear
This I vow. This I aver.
that I will joy in her grace beyond compare.
This I vow. This I aver.

Her Grace Flows Freely
by Michael R. Burch
Italian translation by Comasia Aquaro

La sua grazia vola libera

7 luglio 2007

Il suo amore è sempre casto, e puro.
Lo giuro. Lo prometto.
Se mi mostra la sua grazia, le farò onore.
Lo giuro. Lo prometto.
La sua grazia vola libera, come i suoi capelli.
Lo giuro. Lo prometto.
Per la sua generosità, la venererò.
Lo giuro. Lo prometto.
Non la maledirò per ciò che soffro
Lo giuro. Lo prometto.
come il più prezioso desiderio d'incenso per lei,
Lo giuro. Lo prometto.
non chiamarla 'sgualdrina' laddove io cerco di aggiustare.
Lo giuro. Lo prometto.
Io non strizzerò l'occhio, non riderò soddisfatto, non fisserò lo sguardo
Lo giuro. Lo prometto.
Come un bambino sciocco ai piedi di una scala
Lo giuro. Lo prometto.
Laddove io desidero andare, ci sarebbe forse un altro.
Lo giuro. Lo prometto.
Mi rallegrerò nella sua libertà, e sempre sfiderò
Lo giuro. Lo prometto.
la sorte che lei mi sfuggirà—il mio raro storno
Lo giuro. Lo prometto.
E dopo, se lei resta, senza stare, io lo garantisco
Lo giuro. Lo prometto.
Gioirò nella sua grazia al di là del confrontare.
Lo giuro. Lo prometto.



A risqué Latin epigram:

C-nt, while you weep and seep neediness all night,
-ss has claimed what would bring you delight.
—Musa Lapidaria, #100A, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



References to Dante in other Translations by Michael R. Burch

THE MUSE
by Anna Akhmatova
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My being hangs by a thread tonight
as I await a Muse no human pen can command.
The desires of my heart — youth, liberty, glory —
now depend on the Maid with the flute in her hand.
Look! Now she arrives; she flings back her veil;
I meet her grave eyes — calm, implacable, pitiless.
'Temptress, confess!
Are you the one who gave Dante hell? '
She answers, 'Yes.'



I have also translated this tribute poem written by Marina Tsvetaeva for Anna Akhmatova:

Excerpt from 'Poems for Akhmatova'
by Marina Tsvetaeva
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You outshine everything, even the sun
  at its zenith. The stars are yours!
If only I could sweep like the wind
  through some unbarred door,
gratefully, to where you are...
  to hesitantly stammer, suddenly shy,
lowering my eyes before you, my lovely mistress,
  petulant, chastened, overcome by tears,
as a child sobs to receive forgiveness...



Dante-Related Poems and Dante Criticism by Michael R. Burch

Of Seabound Saints and Promised Lands
by Michael R. Burch

Judas sat on a wretched rock,
his head still sore from Satan's gnawing.
Saint Brendan's curragh caught his eye,
wildly geeing and hawing.
'I'm on parole from Hell today!'
Pale Judas cried from his lonely perch.
'You've fasted forty days, good Saint!
Let this rock by my church,
my baptismal, these icy waves.
O, plead for me now with the One who saves!'

Saint Brendan, full of mercy, stood
at the lurching prow of his flimsy bark,
and mightily prayed for the mangy man
whose flesh flashed pale and stark
in the golden dawn, beneath a sun
that seemed to halo his tonsured dome.
Then Saint Brendan sailed for the Promised Land
and Saint Judas headed Home.

O, behoove yourself, if ever your can,
of the fervent prayer of a righteous man!

In Dante's 'Inferno' Satan gnaws on Judas Iscariot's head. A curragh is a boat fashioned from wood and ox hides. Saint Brendan of Ireland is the patron saint of sailors and whales. According to legend, he sailed in search of the Promised Land and discovered America centuries before Columbus.



Dante's was a defensive reflex
against religion's hex.
—Michael R. Burch



Dante, you Dunce!
by Michael R. Burch

The earth is hell, Dante, you Dunce!
Which you should have perceived—since you lived here once.
God is no Beatrice, gentle and clever.
Judas and Satan were wise to dissever
from false 'messiahs' who cannot save.
Why flit like a bat through Plato's cave
believing such shadowy illusions are real?
There is no 'hell' but to live and feel!



How Dante Forgot Christ
by Michael R. Burch

Dante ****** the brightest and the fairest
for having loved—pale Helen, wild Achilles—
agreed with his Accuser in the spell
of hellish visions and eternal torments.
His only savior, Beatrice, was Love.
His only savior, Beatrice, was Love,
the fulcrum of his body's, heart's and mind's
sole triumph, and their altogether conquest.
She led him to those heights where Love, enshrined,
blazed like a star beyond religion's hells.
Once freed from Yahweh, in the arms of Love,
like Blake and Milton, Dante forgot Christ.
The Christian gospel is strangely lacking in Milton's and Dante's epics. Milton gave the 'atonement' one embarrassed enjambed line. Dante ****** the Earth's star-crossed lovers to his grotesque hell, while doing exactly what they did: pursing at all costs his vision of love, Beatrice. Blake made more sense to me, since he called the biblical god Nobodaddy and denied any need to be 'saved' by third parties.



Dante's Antes
by Michael R. Burch

There's something glorious about man,
who lives because he can,
who dies because he must,
and in between's a bust.
No god can reign him in:
he's quite intent on sin
and likes it rather, really.
He likes *** touchy-feely.
He likes to eat too much.
He has the Midas touch
and paves hell's ways with gold.
The things he's bought and sold!
He's sold his soul to Mammon
and also plays backgammon
and poker, with such antes
as still befuddle Dantes.
I wonder—can hell hold him?
His chances seem quite dim
because he's rather puny
and also loopy-******.
And yet like Evel Knievel
he dances with the Devil
and seems so **** courageous,
good-natured and outrageous
some God might show him mercy
and call religion heresy.



RE: Paradiso, Canto III
by Michael R. Burch

for the most 'Christian' of poets

What did Dante do,
to earn Beatrice's grace
(grace cannot be earned!)        
but cast disgrace
on the whole human race,
on his peers and his betters,
as a man who wears cheap rayon suits
might disparage men who wear sweaters?
How conventionally 'Christian' — Poet! — to ****
your fellow man
for being merely human,
then, like a contented clam,
to grandly claim
near-infinite 'grace'
as if your salvation was God's only aim!
What a scam!
And what of the lovely Piccarda,
whom you placed in the lowest sphere of heaven
for neglecting her vows —
She was forced!
Were you chaste?



Intimations V
by Michael R. Burch

We had not meditated upon sound
so much as drowned
in the inhuman ocean
when we imagined it broken
open
like a conch shell
whorled like the spiraling hell
of Dante's 'Inferno.'
Trapped between Nature
and God,
what is man
but an inquisitive,
acquisitive
sod?
And what is Nature
but odd,
or God
but a Clod,
and both of them horribly flawed?



Endgame
by Michael R. Burch

The honey has lost all its sweetness,
the hive—its completeness.
Now ambient dust, the drones lie dead.
The workers weep, their King long fled
(who always had been ****, invisible,
his 'kingdom' atomic, divisible,
and pathetically risible) .
The queen has flown,
long Dis-enthroned,
who would have gladly given all she owned
for a promised white stone.
O, Love has fled, has fled, has fled...
Religion is dead, is dead, is dead.

The drones are those who drone on about the love of God in a world full of suffering and death: dead prophets, dead pontiffs, dead preachers. Spewers of dead words and false promises. The queen is disenthroned, as in Dis-enthroned. In Dante's Inferno, the lower regions of hell are enclosed within the walls of Dis, a city surrounded by the Stygian marshes. The river Styx symbolizes death and the journey from life to the afterlife. But in Norse mythology, Dis was a goddess, the sun, and the consort of Heimdal, himself a god of light. DIS is also the stock ticker designation for Disney, creator of the Magic Kingdom. The 'promised white stone' appears in Revelation, which turns Jesus and the Angels into serial killers.



The Final Revelation of a Departed God's Divine Plan
by Michael R. Burch

Here I am, talking to myself again...
******* at God and bored with humanity.
These insectile mortals keep testing my sanity!
Still, I remember when...
planting odd notions, dark inklings of vanity,
in their peapod heads might elicit an inanity
worth a chuckle or two.
Philosophers, poets... how they all made me laugh!
The things they dreamed up! Sly Odysseus's raft;
Plato's 'Republic'; Dante's strange crew;
Shakespeare's Othello, mad Hamlet, Macbeth;
Cervantes' Quixote; fat, funny Falstaff! ;
Blake's shimmering visions. Those days, though, are through...
for, puling and tedious, their 'poets' now seem
content to write, but not to dream,
and they fill the world with their pale derision
of things they completely fail to understand.
Now, since God has long fled, I am here, in command,
reading this crap. Earth is Hell. We're all ******.



Brief Encounters: Other Roman, Italian and Greek Epigrams

No wind is favorable to the man who lacks direction.—Seneca the Younger, translation by Michael R. Burch

Little sparks ignite great Infernos.—Dante, translation by Michael R. Burch

The danger is not aiming too high and missing, but aiming too low and hitting the mark.—Michelangelo, translation by Michael R. Burch

He who follows will never surpass.—Michelangelo, translation by Michael R. Burch

Nothing enables authority like silence.—Leonardo da Vinci, translation by Michael R. Burch

My objective is not to side with the majority, but to avoid the ranks of the insane.—Marcus Aurelius, translation by Michael R. Burch

Time is sufficient for anyone who uses it wisely.—Leonardo da Vinci, translation by Michael R. Burch

Blinding ignorance misleads us. Myopic mortals, open your eyes! —Leonardo da Vinci, translation by Michael R. Burch

It is easier to oppose evil from the beginning than at the end.—Leonardo da Vinci, translation by Michael R. Burch

Fools call wisdom foolishness.—Euripides, translation by Michael R. Burch

One true friend is worth ten thousand kin.—Euripides, translation by Michael R. Burch

Not to speak one's mind is slavery.—Euripides, translation by Michael R. Burch

I would rather die standing than kneel, a slave.—Euripides, translation by Michael R. Burch

Fresh tears are wasted on old griefs.—Euripides, translation by Michael R. Burch

Improve yourself by other men's writings, attaining less painfully what they gained through great difficulty.—Socrates, translation by Michael R. Burch

Just as I select a ship when it's time to travel, or a house when it's time to change residences, even so I will choose when it's time to depart from life.―Seneca, speaking about the right to euthanasia in the first century AD, translation by Michael R. Burch

Booksellers laud authors for novel editions
as p-mps praise their wh-res for exotic positions.
—Thomas Campion, Latin epigram, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

#POEMS #POETRY #LATIN #ROMAN #ITALIAN #TRANSLATION #MRB-POEMS #MRB-POETRY #MRBPOEMS #MRBPOETRY #MRBLATIN #MRBROMAN #MRBITALIAN #MRBTRANSLATION

The businessman was on the prowl
that soft night in September.
He was looking for a bit of strange
and a night he would remember.
She need not be a ****** queen
but he didn't like them jaded.
A rose bud opened, deeply blushed,
surpasses one that's faded.
Caveat emptor stills applies
He'd do well to remember-
Curvy vendors lay and lie
to those who seek illegal tender

Our fountains fragrance is better than perfume
lick orifice and love the sense and sensation of song
I began to devour our beautiful masterpiece of blooms
there is no greater drink than love that has blossomed along ...

Its the home of fantasy and desire of exotica
with each mutter of voice, I want to materialize
the delight surpasses all other tastes to be so ******
flesh to flesh, a beauty so full of discovery and naturalize ...


I adore so passionately, as anticipation arises
with every moment, my paradise is our fountain
my desire of tasting, with tender expression of revises
smooth on top....lips go moist, on our love mountain ...

Debbie Brooks 2014

I remember what we used to have
Hang outs,
On the couch
Cuddle fests
With nothing but your neck to nest
And nuzzle on the other’s.
Head rests
And hands link
Subtle winks
Nothing surpasses this.
But when you say what you said
And want to “take a break”
To me that means a rest
A rest from it all
And this was for your sake.
So i took the space
You needed
Feeded your mind and heart
With the gap holding us apart
So you could get the perspective you desired.
And a part of me admired you for it.
But now that you revealed
That youre back with him
I have nothing short of fury
And i want to bury
My feelings
And act like it doesnt matter
Act like i dont have a heart
I dont hear it in my chest
There’s no pitter patter.
Because now i feel tricked and empty.
You didnt want an end
And i stupidly agreed.
That taking a leave would be best
Little did i know
Upon my return, id be blessed
With the knowledge of you and your ex
reunited.
I feel slighted.
Because you didnt want a break
You wanted a break UP.
Because who ever wants a break?
She
Apparently.
Its a shame to me she didnt know the difference.
And didnt have the heart to tell me they were back together…
Until now.
And now
There WAS a break...
because We’re broken.
And i dont know how to mend it.

An effusive elaborate scheme the colors advance to bright spellbinding allure then they achieve
Depth of quality by cutting back to softer hues and then the natural dark green is the bold
Touch that succeeds with total symmetry showcased in a view perfected by glass the prism
Most fitting not only to see but to be captivated by perfected expression it is a metaphor for life
The master designer chooses his subjects well one infuses another then by degree others
Foreshadow and glorify it blends tangible and intangible into intelligent coherent order tasteful
And sublime the hint and the elusive wonder all is needed is the wind to bow and ****** it into
A profusion a veritable concert that stirs with appeal life is in motion the players advance and
Retreat each speaking lines unique to themselves what sensations speak tendrils on a garden
Trellis held and fixed a gesture that plays and portrays intricate details the mystery that plays so
Well the stealing of morning frost then the blaze and then restful dying rays that spell comfort
The field rolls and contorts this brandishes excitement exuberance veers and plunders life
Become exploration trails hidden thickets hide and hold expression that is pent up ready to
Explode what vesture we wear it grips our friend’s astonishment is read on their faces but it is
Like a house of many mirrors because their lives are having the same effect on you some days
Are uneventful others are storm tossed with grandness the riches of an all contained realm
Spasms convulse like waves of the sea we stand forth to puzzle and dream what does it all
Mean the sanctity reveals plumes that are invisible that are far reaching and they have given us
This course of endurance that belies longing we grow soft and an inner glowing surpasses the
Stringent the misfit that moans against conforming we are treasure that exceeds all expectation
Life is rich we are its brightest colors and light night is for brooding the day is for shinning and
Divulging the secrets found in the brooding time we accost others we signify to them not only
Our own worth but there’s also fetching is the spray that magnifies the sky we are the bursting
We are the aliveness that is found each day in our lives that is the dooryard of discovery



----------------------------------------------------------------­----------------

Only fire can be born from a spark, nothing else.

It is impossible to keep fire not burning.

You cannot warm yourself near volcano and feel serene.

You cannot touch the sun, you can just only watch it.

Even if you love the sun, you must love it humanly, not like a moth. That is the main difference of a deeper, conscious and pure love.

No human loves suffering or wants to live in it. If one does and wants, he is something new, but anyway, not a human.

And if the one is not a human, he cannot be purer than he was before.

Pure thing is humanity. Humanity is always serene and as calm as shallow, mild water to swim in.

Being humane is the highest state of being.

Anything surpasses it with suffers, pain and fire, either can turn you to inhuman being or to ashes.

There is no humanity beyond suffering. Even if it is the suffering of the deepest love. You have to come back.

In any case and circumstances, pure love must not hurt, pure love cannot degrade, pure love has no ability to set a fire.

Sorry for burning your hands, my dear
Sorry for all hurts I gave

Be attentive about the genesis of your inner impromptu and inspiration, my dear poet brethren...

Back to part two
O ya thought i was through
Im not through with you
Break down your crew
Leave em stuck like glue
No clue
My mind surpasses the highest IQ
Of the wisest scientist
Aint no defyin' this im ludicrous
But at the same time perilous and mysterious
Watch how quick my reaction bust
Im a demi god evil as ******
My syndication thicker than
Louisana fog my mind jogs
Faster than the speed of light
Blast through rhymes like a rocket flight
That means outta space
Get it naw forget it
By the time u catch on you'll
Be admitted
IN ICU
Doing intensive surgery and the clergy
Prepared for ya weak will an.eulogy
My philosophy is embraced with agony
Suffering n pain i go against the grain
Harder than *******
In the pauper neighborhood
You wish you could
Flow like me like mike everybody
Wanna be like me picture me
On mt olympus spittin' flows ridiculous
Even had the dead hearing us
rolling in graves
My fiery tongues leave ya skin scorned
And grazed like in the last days
Urgin' for ya soul to be saved
Im not well behaved
I radiate the sun with my own beam rays
******* go astray everday they jam K
But dont know im a protege of him
So they just lay
Low waiting for my.blow
hit ya harder than tyson combined with tsunami in japan
Makin' money that surpasses the average man
King Solomon heir entice terror of the new era
Step into my cage i dare ya
I go through propellers without touchin'
Double clutchin'
My grips on  money so it aint nothing
Always into something
Like nwa all for gun play
Im the seed of demon feedin' on your territorial region
Leave your country bleedin'
I was banned from the garden of Eden
Who do you believe in??
God or me none can pass me
Blast me and I'll split up to three
I'm trinity
God the father and the son the dangerous
One infinite continuum
By the time you'll figure out
You'll still he lost in my magnificent
conundrum

And some slept,
And some dreamt,
And some made their way into the world
Logical, rational, enforced lives
that all added up.
And I never realized when the silver bullet missed me,
my chance for immortality gone
I had thought of some days
I am nowadays glad to just see through days.

I live in full fiction
Where goddesses walk right into your arms
and superlative co-incidences mean something.
Where physical attraction is justifiable and
hormones understand each other
across bodies.

I have loved you,
however immaterial my love maybe to the rest of you
and the circumstances
I will love you
till I find meaning
and thousands of barbarians invade across millions of
homes, unsuspecting
where the disease of one human mind reaches
and surpasses all minds .
Where I finally get mad
and act on it.

There are some stories I haven't heard.
You can tell me a few of those
on my way to the mad-house.
I have a shelf full of unread books
and with every day of disappointment
the shelf keeps piling up.

I at-least hope that in my non fictional existence
One day, you will read my feelings
even though, you won't necessarily act on them.

My sweetheart our honeymoon is just in the cards
We are not ordinary lovers, extraordinary die-hards
In our own domain of love we are but real lords
Sincerity in love my love brings all good rewards

Let celebrate our love in the midst of colorful lights
Let beauty and love in chain achieve eternal heights
Let make our days wonderful and tasteful nights
Beauty indicts and excites in trance all love insights

Love surpasses beauty and beauty surpasses all
Let me take you on my love and in love let recall
On snowy mountain came to cover lovely hot shawl
Heart and soul gone to dangle and dance in enthrall

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow

For Roberta and her son

You were like the sunshine limited you were silver gleaming the favorite of all the nights dreaming but at
The crossing of now and forever you ceased traveling this dark world it was the most spectacular light
Show the combination of a star burst and the dazzle of the most shinning moonlight that explodes over
Head and wonderful bright pieces shine and fall all about and then the darkness closes all the light out
We are spectators that stand on a hill as we observe a great dark ominous cloud fills the low land icy
Texture is thick this foe carries the facts that sorrow can’t be averted touch is the first harrowing alarm
By her voice that filled you with natural wonder it was embracing it had the telling way of
Settling like a gentle breeze after a storm assuring that all is well to hold each other was the
Making of a bulwark that had its origin in the most gentle and soft moods that refreshed from
The inside out no comfort is found in the empty wind nothing of sight or sound just the affixed
Preeminent knowing that all contact is lost love lays on the shore a pile of boards and a broken
Mast nothing but ship wrecked love and hope for the future with you the picture was complete
You were the bestowing flowing one my heart was turned to stone my mouth lost it desire to
Speak with deadened eyes I look upon this world then when only her face was barely visible
And mostly just ghostly white except for the dark outlines of her eyes nose and mouth and a
Few deep dark strands of hair that gave her an artful beautiful presence then from somewhere
Where only love knows a voice said she will be waiting my heart that was jarred from its natural
Place it was foreign to my body a strange thing now since losing the tender recompense that
You had so generously instilled in the whole of my life I knew the path ahead meant
Reconciliation time was not any longer a cruel abridgement but a course of one being hallowed
By one above beyond my reach are such wonders for now with exception she breaths in me
Truth reality that holds no comparison in this life she is my guide without equal before we knew
Common trials now we behold the future that outshines all of the hopes we had in this life
Crisscrossing the universe being in a state of pure love enriches and surpasses all prior
Existence

Transcending all the right and wrongdoings
Will meet you at a place where nothing exits
Just You and Me, in rendezvous with us
In a language which surpasses all the worldly meanings
Meanings of our heart expressed in an alien language

They look, they admire they yearn to fill ur shoes and take ur place, they promise the earth I walk on for u and the sky filled with stars we watch together, they offer pure faux promises of eternal love with a life span of two minutes of exploration of ur pleasure carousel...

Once the ride is over who's to say what will happen?

So I jus let them see what they can't afford because the price I paid to have u by my side is worth more, the love u give surpasses any man made possession.

They don't understand that the rhythm of ur heart governs my walk and u are my smile so I'm urs made for u and only u, the bearer of my soul and my life line.

So I exist for u and only u, I can't breathe when we're apart, I live for u and only u

I wouldn't have it any other way,

For Roberta and her son

You were like the sunshine limited you were silver gleaming the favorite of all the nights dreaming but at
The crossing of now and forever you ceased traveling this dark world it was the most spectacular light
Show the combination of a star burst and the dazzle of the most shinning moonlight that explodes over
Head and wonderful bright pieces shine and fall all about and then the darkness closes all the light out
We are spectators that stand on a hill as we observe a great dark ominous cloud fills the low land icy
Texture is thick this foe carries the facts that sorrow can’t be averted touch is the first harrowing alarm
By her voice that filled you with natural wonder it was embracing it had the telling way of
Settling like a gentle breeze after a storm assuring that all is well to hold each other was the
Making of a bulwark that had its origin in the most gentle and soft moods that refreshed from
The inside out no comfort is found in the empty wind nothing of sight or sound just the affixed
Preeminent knowing that all contact is lost love lays on the shore a pile of boards and a broken
Mast nothing but ship wrecked love and hope for the future with you the picture was complete
You were the bestowing flowing one my heart was turned to stone my mouth lost it desire to
Speak with deadened eyes I look upon this world then when only her face was barely visible
And mostly just ghostly white except for the dark outlines of her eyes nose and mouth and a
Few deep dark strands of hair that gave her an artful beautiful presence then from somewhere
Where only love knows a voice said she will be waiting my heart that was jarred from its natural
Place it was foreign to my body a strange thing now since losing the tender recompense that
You had so generously instilled in the whole of my life I knew the path ahead meant
Reconciliation time was not any longer a cruel abridgement but a course of one being hallowed
By one above beyond my reach are such wonders for now with exception she breaths in me
Truth reality that holds no comparison in this life she is my guide without equal before we knew
Common trials now we behold the future that outshines all of the hopes we had in this life
Crisscrossing the universe being in a state of pure love enriches and surpasses all prior
Existence