A hyacinth and a gardenia
White and pure like clouds on a bright day
Royal and sweet, buried in the same ground.
Glory and feeling, at once emerged
For I'll give you my buds, if you give me your stem
And I'll take your beauty and turn it into a mist.
Our eternal tomb will be this soil
Full of ashes and love.
A sabre will pierce our hearts and our very flowers will slump.
But even then, in sudden death,
We'll be pure and white
Buried in the same soil
Only to blossom again
As Apollo's lover and a boutonnière.
No comments:
Post a Comment