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A Flame

A Poem from the book:
"The Fifth and The Last Nail"

BY

Mahmud Kianush

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Copyright shall at all times remain vested in the Author. No part of the work shall be used, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the Author's express written consent.


A flame,

Now red, now white:

The tree of your blood,

The snow of your memory.

What do I see in your sigh

That scatters me

Beyond the frontiers of time

Where history will never tread?

 

One eye to the growing seed of creation,

And the other

To the eternal nothingness,

With you standing in between,

Holding the sun in one hand

And darkness in the other.

 

When you said: Yes!

The kingdom of music fell.

When you blinked,

The stars slid into eclipse.

This was the chaos

Preceding the birth of all galaxies.

 

You came along the Milky Way,

Passing through the arch of the sun,

And gave me a bouquet of poems:

Now your fragrance cradles the air,

And your freshness

Gives rise to new Springs.

 

Night, night,

I say night

So that I may abandon my senses

By the grace of the deep relief

That flows from your eyes

And puts an end

To the confusion of uncertainty.

 

Crystallize me

In a drop of dew,

And let me rise

With the warmth of a smile,

To cross the universe in a moment:

This will be the end of restlessness

And the beginning of perfection,

O you,

The order and the orbit

Of all the celestial bodies,

The spirit of the eternal word.

 

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Copyright © 2003 K. Kianush, Art Arena