Frederico Garcia Lorca
Six Strings
The Guitar
makes dreams cry
The sobbing of lost
souls
escapes through its round
mouth.
And like the tarantula,
it spins a huge star
and tracks down the sighs
that float in its black
wooden cistern.
(Lorca)
Dark Sides Of The Moon
The moon wakes first today
Beaming my wake-up call
Silver sickle in black sky
Seasoned with stars.
Floating on pre-dawn light
Still hidden from my eyes.
The winking eye
Clock watches for the day
shift to come in
Staring the sun in the face
Never turning
Walking backwards
As if from a queen
Until extinguished
By the same flame
Driving me from bed
(WRM 2002)
2 comments:
Natural Irony.
The moon shone darkly on the shore,
Where shallow waves make shingle snore,
And gentle gusts coarse marram coiffe,
To greet the breaking day.
The pale sun in watery sky
Keeps an ever watchful eye,
On land and sea, and birds that fly,
Constant in it's role.
And we who only recent came,
Adopt an omnipotent game
To conserve, protect and keep the same
Those signs of Nature's perpetual change.
I love this one! thank you whoever you are.
WRM
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