Language Says

/, Blesok no. 43/Language Says

Language Says

Language Says
Face
Hunt Song
Love Song
Song of the Tribe

My head is a cloud on the face of the lake;
the wind
is peaceful.
Mountains and mountain shadows,
spots of grey and light,
travel over the mirror of water.
Spots of, shadows of faces,
a long
long procession.
Faces that have been
will always be
here within here within here:
on the shore of an eye the dead gather
to bathe
to rise
and be.

My face on the face of a lake,
ripples on the face of ripples:
Troy, Jerusalem, Alexandria, Rome
rise and fall
fall and rise.
Smoke still rises from city walls,
swords still glitter at dusk,
I rise and fall, fall and rise.
Faces that will be always have been;
grey spots in the mirror of water.

Ohrid Lake, Aug. 30, 2003

2018-08-21T17:23:20+00:00 July 1st, 2005|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 43|0 Comments