Eons ago, they were dignity, and horror of flames -
they became today memories and echoes,
smiles of clouds and birds' confabulations.
They, the irreplaceable, They, the unchanging...
For lazy Gods, they are guardians of the world,
For lovers they are the ideals, or oath of two hearts.
For children, they are children, but more beautiful,
and for poets - the very grandeur of the word,
For the departed - a white lillly which bloomed too soon,
and for the knights - the fire and the sword,
for the sleeping - a mere dream within a dream,
and for me... everything and nothing at once!
But for sprites, born of water brightness
they are neglected in azure legends...
B.L. (1919)
2007-12-23
04:21:30
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13 answers
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asked by
Anonymous
in
Poetry