The solitary rose of your breath
Angels alight, a slight, feathery goodnight kiss,
behind her eyes her guardian angel sighs.
Listen! to the whisperer behind the song,
misfortune exorcised by fluttering fugues begin again
to sing a song in a minor key,
a longing to be whole and free.
Let'so roll away the stone:
for on this seafront there is a stone,
where, in the creamy moonlight of romance,
men and women pledge and dance,
it is a place where ghosts abide
owls screech their ageless, endless cries
to a high, star-cluttered sky.
Yes! it is a place where all our dreams come true,
moonstruck eyes and derring-do.
We flee into the turbulent sea,
echo that old, old story,
whispered to us soundlessly,
enriched by such and such
wild sprigs of poetry.
O! such wild sprigs of poetry
travel to that land of lost content
where the veil of the temple
was rent in two
and the holy of holies
is made a-new.