Poetry - Lonesome by Sârb Olimpia

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￭ (half)
￭ Green roots. Trampling down death by death
￭ The only thing
￭ In our image and our likeness
￭ passage. if today
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￭ Philosophia Perennis
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￭ 3
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￭ My white horse dressed in butterflies

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Lonesome
poetry [ ]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by Sârb Olimpia [Doremidoremi ]

2010-05-24 |

Literary Translation - Translations of classic and original poetry and other materials This text is a follow-up |

You estrange.
I can see
this torch light procession,
a recollection escape.
My lonely lips
and whispers,
the remote birds
of my Land of Nod,
become
sigh.

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