ShadowsCool
01-01-2013, 10:26 PM
"When in the valleys, I dream of her in the mountains,
And when in the mountains, I dream of her in the stars.
She is always some place higher than me,
For when she utters her breath
I am always looking up to see."
My beloved's lips are sweet cherry wine,
And the scent of its course;
The mist that lingers in the nose from a Spring breeze.
She lets free a hundred flowers of nectar and spices,
And they somehow find me and beseech me.
Her language I cannot relay,
The words of silence that runaway.
And this is my love to me:
When she closes in from a lulled room;
In hearing; my heart beats faster,
Envisioning my beloved's face.
She is the luminous quench of my eyes.
Her beloved light -
Carries its own beam,
Overriding all that was lit before.
For she provokes the quest of silence
To yearn but to hear her lips;
For they speak of lovely things,
Such things that make me think.
And to pleasure her my beloved
With a banquet froth with fruits,
And the sweet suckle of Canaan,
That I will pick by hand with care,
And deliver them when our eyes meet;
The moment of God's first light,
When it bounces off her and through me.
Yes, this is my beloved coming down eminent steps,
This is what I've been waiting for,
Watching for: to see her honey eyes
Gaze eternally at me.
She is the only Jewel I see,
And it does not blind me, but arouses me;
For this is where I want to be,
In my beloved's eyes, looking towards me.
And here she comes sweeping down like a seer,
Made of the contours of the clouds,
And having the contents of its mist, releasing perfume;
The one I see is she.
And when she rest in my silent escape
I will tell her then;
She is but the one I dream,
And I will be ever close,
Moving in her direction, wherever she may be.
My beloved
Who lays down next to me.
And when in the mountains, I dream of her in the stars.
She is always some place higher than me,
For when she utters her breath
I am always looking up to see."
My beloved's lips are sweet cherry wine,
And the scent of its course;
The mist that lingers in the nose from a Spring breeze.
She lets free a hundred flowers of nectar and spices,
And they somehow find me and beseech me.
Her language I cannot relay,
The words of silence that runaway.
And this is my love to me:
When she closes in from a lulled room;
In hearing; my heart beats faster,
Envisioning my beloved's face.
She is the luminous quench of my eyes.
Her beloved light -
Carries its own beam,
Overriding all that was lit before.
For she provokes the quest of silence
To yearn but to hear her lips;
For they speak of lovely things,
Such things that make me think.
And to pleasure her my beloved
With a banquet froth with fruits,
And the sweet suckle of Canaan,
That I will pick by hand with care,
And deliver them when our eyes meet;
The moment of God's first light,
When it bounces off her and through me.
Yes, this is my beloved coming down eminent steps,
This is what I've been waiting for,
Watching for: to see her honey eyes
Gaze eternally at me.
She is the only Jewel I see,
And it does not blind me, but arouses me;
For this is where I want to be,
In my beloved's eyes, looking towards me.
And here she comes sweeping down like a seer,
Made of the contours of the clouds,
And having the contents of its mist, releasing perfume;
The one I see is she.
And when she rest in my silent escape
I will tell her then;
She is but the one I dream,
And I will be ever close,
Moving in her direction, wherever she may be.
My beloved
Who lays down next to me.