From a second Promethean Sunic ...
Oh, tell me the pale Moon
Where has the joyous beat of the heart gone?
In the veinless, bloodless, joyless machine,
Illusion of our time.
Like a sunless gothic cathedral among the skyscrapers,
Without its chime - lost in the yawning heights of time.
Divine heart, you have slept too long in your primeval grave,
Waiting for the thunder to wake you up in your deep sleep!
But all that clamour couldn’t move you
You were falling deeper in your dream.
Until in the darkest darkness of my human heart,
I dreamt of the mysterious sun-ray that has come to wake you up,
Before the delightful dawn of time –from the coldest depths of
Unknown Life; from forgotten timeless spheres,
As soft as the white flower petals in warm summer nights
Comes the unknown delight!
The lost feeling - the old Eros; reborn out of time immemorial,
Deeper and warmer than all those passionate fires of cold modernity.
by Xenia Sunic, wife of Tom and a Croatian poet dedicated to the Promethean spirit. She lives and works in Zagreb.
Posted by Rnl on Tue, 06 Feb 2007 21:30 | #
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