Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Being earnest...

If you are not knowing me, my darling,
Why should I need to continue in this birth?
Do I crave in vain, for you to,
Touch and wake the strings of my lute,
Which is already broken, and can give only discords?

I realize your empathy, when I soar up,
On the wings of a dream, into the heaven.
As I open the windows of my attribution,
I see your image in those visions.
The secret of your melodies, I found in the
Golden bamboo pipe and the spirit of your life,
In the flowers of the spring, which came as guests.
Am I not your speech, your sight?

When the tender drops of the dew, drip down
As pearls of jade into the earth;
When the maiden, full moons, string the jasmine
Flowers of starlets in the yonder sky;
When the fragrance of your breath
Permeates into the air, I breath in;
And I see the dazzle of your bangles,
In the lightning, across the horizon,
My poems and the beauty in the mind unite into one.

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