The Poem And The Butterfly

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The Poem And The Butterfly

The Poem and the Butterfly (Metamorphosis)
The Night of my Death is Approaching
Marble (Pillar)
The Deposition from the Cross (a Fresco)
The Entry Into Jerusalem (a Fresco)
We Walk Holding Hands

The night of my death is approaching
The white rose that will explain
The mystery of the clouds
The blueness of my wild journeys
The root of my unfaithful soul.

As soon as I tie my boat
To the silver bouquet of the night
Will I succeed in forcing the wind
To elucidate the fury of the sails
The road which trapped my traces
The sea that yoked my shore?

Will I manage to give back
Their song to the birds, pigeons to old letters
Sorrow to the dark eye of the Cyclops?

Will I manage to understand my heart
Wounded by thousands of moons and stars?


The night of my death is approaching
When that blue-eyed mourner
Will weave my secrets on the way
Into a linen pall
For my coffin

AuthorMihail Rendžov
2021-11-15T19:05:38+00:00 November 1st, 2021|Categories: Poetry, Literature, Blesok no. 140|0 Comments