I sang of divine and I sang of heroic; the throb of cleavers and sanguine battles.
Whilst steadfast hawk on my arm reposed, coarse litanies churned in avian prattles.
Eclipsed by winter’s unkind blizzard, the tempest’s fury, the furor’s temper,
My shadow greeted a lone eon, the soul ravaged by loss of cantor
In snivels perished. Like seagulls shred the eternal heavens,
My eyes have rested upon the vapors -
A flit already has penetrated the stagnant malice of grayish airs.
I seek to simmer on wings of falcon, to jolt my vision through the turmoil,
Into estate beyond the phantasm, far into dreamland’s adjacent soil.
Infuse my wings, wind, with your fervor, hawkish pith my essence wizen,
Every night I dream of voyage – arctic fjords engulf horizon.
Dipped in silk thy sleeves, Your Splendor, hills are blanched in gilded heather,
Fantom lands I’ve never been to; woe is I – if else than never.
If only past we haven’t shared a faulty memory could capture,
I jitter, like a fallen leaf, ebbing the soul into rapture,
Shiny coins pay for ballads, full moon the same for you atones,
In winter’s land the spring is pallid, yours is summer’s sparkling throne.
Wake, Regina, put on plumage, we’ll together tame the gale,
Stormy will be flight, Regina, ice of wrists is so frail,
Dipped in silk thy sleeves, Your Splendor, fine feathers are auric,
As I soar in mirth and tremor, my amusement is Mercuric.
Hither come, give me permission to caress your robes refined,
Every night I hills envision, every sunrise – wake up blind,
Dipped in silk thy sleeves, Your Splendor, trimmed are skies with gilded crescent;
Take me far, the northern zephyr, cold and pain are iridescent.
Sweetest grief it is to share past that neither you nor I have known,
Time has passed the ornate casement, vagrant have the moments grown.
You, my joy, my dreams invaded, dressed in cloak with mournful tassel,
I, of course, will be your minstrel, but at dawn will flee your castle.
Your dreams, Regina, someplace roam,
How far to spring for grasslands home,
Few words, a trivial affair,
Wake up, Regina, take to air,
Who else would I select to share,
My days of yore, yours just as rare
Your mercy wounds like sharp missile,
Your lunar mintage hires my smile,
I’d give up all to share your while,
But chances are my words beguile,
….You reign in ultimate exile.
Original: http://www.melnitsa.net/index.php?id=6&tid=30&action=text
