I am foretold, o’ Swallow In this love for you,
I am foretold of a joyous union,
But Layla,
I am besotted by you only in separation,
Whereof am I to love you…
Sunken in a deep ocean
Where there is only you and no other?
Not for myself do I sing;
That nothing brings me pleasure
Than to be separated from my love
And to behold her,…
The Sun of my days
The Moon of my gladness
The scent of her Beauty found,
In a secret garden of Roses.
.......................................................................
(No. 9 from the chapter entitled 'Tiramesu'. I must have been feeling good when writing this.)
No comments:
Post a Comment