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Two Sonnets
Untitled
Sonnet
My muse, don't make me imitate
Preseren*
Who clinged, liana-like, to what was lost!
Give me a cool mind, but don't let the frost
Come between me and her, touch what we're sharing.
Yes, make me wise; and make my
words less daring
Even as old friends keep their fingers crossed
Let me be sensible and not exhaust
My metaphors if they should have no bearing
On real life; or better, better
still
Send us an angel; one who knows the drill
To guard our Eden with a sword of fire
It's not for prudence that I
tuned my lyre
Or give my words a sonnet's smart attire
But for sweet love's elation, pangs and thrill!
*France Preseren (1800-1849) is
Slovenia's national poet and my favourite among the romantics.
Most of his poems are inspired by his unrequited love for the
rich and arrogant Julija Primic.
This sonnet
Is Maybe About The Waves
One thinks they have a wisdom
of their own:
It's for this reason that we get to see
Ubiquitous, tall surfers who, with glee
Brave Neptune's force; or others still who, prone,
Extended on their couches,
drift, alone,
Serenely trusting the embracing sea.
Calmly, I pondered: how can all this be?
Perhaps me, too (though something of a drone)
Exemplify the same unflinching
trust
Vibrating as I skim the ocean's foam
And drifting joyfully (if drift I must)
Letting my heart thus lead me,
as I roam
I walk on waves, or let myself be thrust
By them, for I'm assured they take me home…
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