Posts Tagged ‘story’

The swans through leaves of this lotus lake
Sail to touch the moon in crystal cold water.
Child to child will ask what merry to make;
What flowers bloom in this daunted barter?
With reason we refute the satin we long sold,
The fabric of faith tossed in grey and gold.

Here comes the breeze, here lives the saint,
Among these fluttering wings that trust
The cold wind will make its hope sail more.
Why not alone tread these paths bent?
Why not jostle the breaths in the tour?
Why not clap among the crowd we know
By silver coated realms of the moon’s glow?

Among shadows there will be a vision burst
Into flecks of life on the distant divine shore.
When we meet will not talk the journey;
But each moment that we lived forever.
Time will seek answers that it knows for long
With filled words that hymn ‘love is our song’.


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It was beside a small countryside bush,
Beside a faint greenery tossed in rain,
I put my first paper boat all alone
With shoulders covered by gentle love
And feet so much mounted with faith.
There comes a breeze of ancient life;
There comes an echo that it will sail well.

I turned and saw red little flowers behind;
Plucked them with love and humming
An unknown song, singing to the wind.
The boat with my name moved far to bring
Joy and join the voyage that I dreamt.
It lives the beauty of those flowers still.

There is an ahoy from my mother,
As I sail through the islands of the past
And waves of fluttering wings of souls
That I know are in as much love with life
As with their boats that voyage in time.

There will be rain again and we will make
Our paper boat together with more love.
Our heart knows we will, so it will rain.

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The sea was unquiet, when we met under the late moon;
And there was enough water to heal our tired feet,
For we took the journey no one else could have thought.
We loved, we kissed, and we stood with time, bravely fought
With hope that stands like the lantern in the temple street,
Where more than our faces we see our own shadows grow.

Someday, freedom will bring you to read these lines, to live
All that I ever dreamt, you will absorb when my heart sings.
Like swans meet in this blue water, often touched by the wind.
I will love you for I have a fearless heart that crossed the rings
Of tradition, that doesn’t count more, and teachers who will give
A reason to beat for our heart, a light to guide our ancient soul.

We will remain away, and we will remain truly but in love,
We will live the remaining props that will save our worlds.
We will breathe and eat suppers and drink with tears tossed.
And time shall pass, springs and autumns will cross the worlds
That we built in ignorance, to make us free like a loving dove.

I announce you not my friend, nor muzzled in a mad menace
Of the storm that shall pass, but in the gold gulped glory
That I love you so much and can stand the long winter in grace.
It’s not a Troy we dreamt, nor a family of crowded story.
We will meet soon beyond the clouds, beyond the cold moon.
Death is just a breath that will make everything meaningless.


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Alone when I stand and see these pages
Of faces with sweat and surging brows
At the crossroad, in the crowd, in hedges
Of crimson cast sky and a brazen desire;
Shadow to shadow neither differs more
Nor instinct succumbs to serene pledges.
Why bother about the river that will flow?
Why stammer when the hymns are low?

Swan to swan will pass on the streak;
For sorrow is like a grounded freak,
At the crossroad, in the crowd, in hedges
Only apparitions and myths of Greek
Stand like a new Troy is about to break.
The shields are dead, the swords wrapped
Now in the creepers of cold memories.

A pasture so green, so greatly laid
Wih a blanket covered in burgeoning blue;
See the corns and grains in gold swaying
For long like hands of the old soulmate.
Not become timber nor dead like glue
That sticks lifeless lips, no hymn will wait.

Let the poets come and all words settle,
The verse is so old but lives forever.
Man to man will meet not in dark battle,
But with eyes of the eternal dreamer.
I am not away, not beside, not far,
Not God on the tower so white and tall,
But in you I reside, I am the dreamer.


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On the same crossroads where we met last,
I still yearn to see you come again, alone.
Let there be no humans, no old statues cast,
No dark doors, no vivid fates, just love alone.
These lives that we lived are lost like wars.

The Beatrice I know has now immortal wings,
And has grown more love than ever before.
Now nothing stops the marriage of our souls.
The Florence I loved long is now denied,
As trusted faces are jaunted in jealous eyes,
And fleeting souls lead and leave past buried.

I am here to sing and write for love so dear;
But cruel intentions consume cold intellect
That I believe was to receive trusted praise.
In desire there is the Beatrice I love again,
For no promise I can see without embrace.

I have kinsmen at home who are far now, 
With unknown fates and dwindling days.
I have my first books and an ancient ink pot
Wandering through the window for return
Of me, my verse filled in heart like an urn.
But I will not redeem, nor will listen to past.
I am a man and like my race shall move on.
This is not fate but an exile cast on my soul.

There are patrons now for me to demolish,
Enough grudge on the verse I wrote in rein,
And Satan that I saw through the homes lost.
There is still love that runs in my aged vein.

The statue of four seasons stands now,
Where we first promised to live and love.
There are grapes and graves lying beside
Like the mockery of our human dreams.

After ages we will be born and meet again,
May not be in Florence but in a far away land,
Where fate will settle down like the sea sand
And frozen dreams will live and love again.


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