Lovers of the Sunset
They who love the sunset are all lovers true and right;
the only gold they treasure is the gold of dying light
as the sun dips down its head like a bull for sacrifice.
Yea, who can love more purely than who loves the light that dies?
The children of the sunrise burst with splendor in the dawn;
they have no fear or trembling when the battle-lines are drawn.
But the lovers of the sunset fight with all, for never-again.
Yea, who can fight more truly than who fights for glory slain?
The brothers of the noon will always make their joyful vows,
the mothers of the midnight in their shadows dream and drowse,
but the lovers of the sunset dance on sure and splendid feet.
Yea, who can dance more truly than who knows the light is sweet?
It is very much like a song this one :) I like it!
ReplyDeleteGlad you liked it!
ReplyDeleteWhile no longer "on sure splendid feet", my mind continues dancing when sunsets are sweet and they always are for me. Thank you for describing this feeling so superbly.
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome! And the agile dance of mind almost certainly does more justice to the sunset than any dance of feet could.
ReplyDelete"the only gold they treasure is the gold of dying light" -- lovely. Sunset is a time for nostalgia and wistfulness and introspection. My favorite poem in this collection, so far.
ReplyDelete