Subject:  Re: I have been faithful to thee, .(sound poem) |
Author:
Rhandell Graves
|
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: 15:17:51 10/26/04 Tue
In reply to:
jim clark..London..England
's message, "I have been faithful to thee, .(sound poem)" on 02:35:12 11/12/02 Tue
Through Mr. Dawsons writing, we are given a glimpse into the soul of a man who loved, but was unable to continue it, except for in the veils of his own recollection.
The way Cynara returns to him, and he remains true, in his fashion seem to mirror the hearts and souls of we mortals today.
How oft do we keep the trinkets of memory safe, and protected in the alabster box of our own recolletions.
I too, have these wonderful reveries that come only alive when the lamps are lit, the pale lost lilles of my mind are allowed to bloom, and like Mr. Dawson, when the grey dawn aproaches, my very own Cynara is gone. Not gone with the wind, rather gone because I have became aware, and suddenly I am alone.
Still, throughout the day, there are those precious glimpses...feelings...that my very own Cynara is waiting to return again to me...During the day, Cynara returns by phone, thank GOD for telephones...but at night...Cynara is mine...in my mind, body and spirit reborn.
>
>Non Sum Qualis eram Bonae Sub Regno Cynarae
>
>('I am no more the man I was in the reign of the Good
>Cynara')
>
>Last night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine
>There fell thy shadow, Cynara! thy breath was shed
>Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine;
>And I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
>Yea, I was desolate and bowed my head:
>I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
>
>All night upon mine heart I felt her warm heart beat,
>Night-long within mine arms in love and sleep she lay;
>Surely the kisses of her bought red mouth were sweet;
>But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
>When I awoke and found the dawn was gray:
>I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
>
>I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind,
>Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng,
>Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind;
>But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
>Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:
>I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
>
>I cried for madder music and for stronger wine,
>But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire,
>Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! the night is thine;
>And I am desolate and sick of an old passion,
>Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire:
>I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
| |
Feedback: 