Sonnet of a Northern Star...

autor:: Miroslav Kizák

rubrika:: poezia

City of magical trails of old stone,
under a firmament full of ornaments,
yet its brightest star went down on Earth,
what luck that I had? I beheld it as it shone,
right into my face, then deeper into heart blends,
what´s the whirlwind? Just a happy mist or love´s birth?

Words and hours awaken from time,
eyes meeting for a while, confused even more,
is it the beauty looking on a fearful beast?
What the power was, aflame, I burned with sweet wine,
into which my blood was turning, an affection born?
To kiss or to go? I couldn´t answer, heart too late for the feast.

Now hearken... I confess, what? Love or madness?
Only Thou could answer, make my veins boil or calm,
why I fell bound to a swanlike angel I have just recently seen?
Forgive me, if this river hurls too rapidly, reckless...
I just had to pour out what my cage held within, can thou tell me a balm?
Thy hands, energy I couldn´t expect to encounter, mesmerized I have been...
So I ask - am I alone with that golden flame? Distant, far...
Heed the call and gently answer, my jewel, my Northern Star.

napísanísané:: 22.10.2007

prečítalo:: 1229 ludí