Waiting for Autumn
I was born in Autumn, and will perhaps die in Autumn
(Born in autumn I say, born in autumn, autumn
in Minnesota; thus, come forth with me,
O autumn—a peasant’s fondness, the hour is near).
Why do I long for you ((autumn)), become lost in your leaves?
I can see the rain on your roses, O thou inexorable time
Who passes the soul, the soundless soul—like snow?
I love your shadows bony thin, as the winds gather appearance,
It is autumn of the next year, and I stand alone—waiting
I love thee! I weep; embrace her, her chilled face,
Her sweet breath, known only to the air, crystal at the mouth.
She has a veil, mystery goddess, hast thou seen me!
Promise’s to come again she does, with her thine eyes
but I understand, you must leave for paradise!
To return in another year; yet my unhappy soul, drifts into
a darker world—Thou lovest me? But cannot stay!
With fringing flames, ye are fled! Holy whispers die, fade
Yet murmurs to my heart remain, I did not wish it!
but they remain,--ah! Far beyond these hours! She
Remains captive for a time, time and circumstance, will
I see you again?
Perhaps, if doom does not become my destiny! —come
forth with me, our far adventure waits…!
Should I not somewhat slay thee? If I could I would, then
you hath not me, or need of me to wait for thee!
It little matters which way I go, I drowest in gratification
That I have met you with a peaceful heart.
I was born in Autumn, for autumn, and will perhaps
die in Autumn;
Sorrow or joy, it little matters which comes, as long as
Autumn remains, her fiery-colored wings, to laugh
With me, as we hear the trumpets of God in the wind.
#1691 2-17-2007
See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
Source: www.isnare.com
