Dream Note No. 15 – Капли Дождевые

Falling, into the depth, hark –
the howling of this dry youthful well;
there are clouds within my heart,
where raindrops hardly hold themselves.

In history’s stain the victors are righteous,
for we neglect the passing hours;
whether autumn answers winter’s calls,
who is the arbiter of this lawless world?

In dreams the righteous are victorious,
for the unrighteous act of playing God;
behind a veil old faces return,
when the lifeless dreams in a raindrop.

Such speed is this reckless world,
for the world is our ambitious task;
yet do you know that ambitions are,
but a veil for our anxious heart.

For the beauty of life I weep,
for the meaning we did not cherish,
bestowed upon life by our artful soul,
and buried in dust by the mindless ghoul.

For our withering friends I weep,
for their love that gave beauty meaning,
for the heartful letter that gave way to text,
for my wilted regret, when raindrops fall.

Dream Note No. 13 – Chopin

An arrival at a lodging by the sea,
like a piece from Aivazovsky;
with a party under the old pine bridge,
the trial sets our afflictions free.

The impending waves our comrades flank,
yet in peace and grace advances our rank;
on the rocky islet our senses embrace,
the scent of roses from a whitened bank.

Under the staircase the catacombs call,
at my retreat under the noble floor;
I chance upon your slumbering notes,
in a dark gallery by a marble door.

From nowhere chants a nocturnal plea,
as buried ghosts cling to their creed;
though the earthy waves their mirrors purge,
in ashes the familiar shadows they see.

Published in: on 04/11/2019 at 10:21 PM  Leave a Comment  
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