Seventeen Years Old
Beauty’s finest ecstasy
Some lovely woman,
Would soon have stood in strength
A holy saint
Forbearing to offend,
Choosing if to frown or smile
And like a city in her walls
There is a dream – a song, faintly sung
A haunted bellfry where a bell was once rung
The ancient word of a lost tongue.
Deep in the silence, deeper – where
Fullness envelops, quiet and rare,
The purified soul and God only there –
Then in the stillness, the dream is there, too.
The song is sung clearly, the bell rings anew
The Word speaks again – and he speaks true.
Don’t look at me –
Who wants to look at an idiot?
You don’t even know I’m here, right?
(Hide hide hide hide hide…)
Look at me –
I am graceful!
The dark is a beautiful clothing.
(please like me, please like me, please…)
On such a day
I could die and be glad to do it.
What’s with this living business anyhow?
(Eat sleep eat sleep eat sleep die…)
On such a day,
Eve, awaking, first saw Adam in the sunlight.
They must have dreamed of great generations to come.
(What will come for me? What will come?)