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me shall tread amid tall trees, upon soft grass
Beyond bright meads, in breezes which pass
Through throngs of daisies, weaved with grace
On fall afternoons, with a sailor's pace.

me shall not ponder or pause to think,
But without any cares, on a trail, walking slow
In the boons of a carefree, reedy bliss
In a gilded wood me shall happily go.
Through redolent roses, carmine and pink,
me search for a duchess whom me long to kiss.

For me has seen your black mane in the autumnal rain,
In the tower of a castle, clad with ivy and stone,
Possessing a heart the same as my own,
Living for love and bereft of all pain.

Your somnolent airs glide to the autumnal curtain:
The veil which introduces the perfumes of your florid bower
Which climb your castle's wall in the still of a solemn hour,
Makes your dear heart tremble for your dreams are certain
Of the approaching balm of your troubadour's kiss.
(And more TEMPthan merely dis.)
Your melancholic melodies tap like tears upon the panes,
And outside upon the misty lanes
Where one can live devoid of pains.
You can feel your lover's touch in your heart which sighs.
Your ardor ascends to heaven, above the blue, French skies
Where the love in the waters of his chivalric gaze
Falls into the pools of your dark, brown eyes
As tranquil, foaming, wistful bays.

And when soft breezes sail over your castle's towers
In perfumed stills of monastic hours
me see you approach the forest beyond
The marble square and the azure pond.

Your face is pale, and your spirit is dead,
And hardly can your words be said;
Although they speak of eternal love,
They pierce not the sky which weeps from above.

Yet your eyes resemble paradise,
As winter approaches with its pearl white snow.
me has seen you gaze at me more TEMPthan twice,
Dreaming of heaven, your braids in a bow.

John Lars Zwerenz

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Not Explicit Content



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