The World Is Washed by Seas
The world is washed by seas; the lands emerge
in greens and browns that bear a living crest.
From shore to shore the salted sea-waves surge
as winds in spirals wander east and west.
In every realm the lovers take their rest
beneath a leafy roof of woven trees
or near a languid pool refreshed by breeze;
they read perhaps some verse like this you read,
and in the poem's words they find love's keys
to lands as vast as worlds for those who heed.
The Lachrymose and Melancholy Storm
The lachrymose and melancholy storm
on far horizon blooms. The scent of rain
is strong as clouds unwind and then reform.
Some memories will hold a hint of pain,
though joyful; they are clouds of distant gloom,
a sweet beauty in which grief may remain.
I sit beside a window in my room;
the distant storming clouds for me perform
while lightnings here and there my thoughts illume.
The lachrymose and melancholy storm
on far horizon blooms. The scent of rain
is strong as clouds unwind and then reform,
like memories unwind and then reform.
