To be recited in the English countryside, at dusk

[Mordraug]

These are the forests that lit and rekindled the fire wherein the Saxon forged his iron verses!
Here was the Viking's head crushed
And the Dane's pride put to flight
These fields were stained with the glorious blood of the enemy
And the shame of Guillaume Plantagenêt

These are the horizons I've always seen in my dreams
These flowers have been planted in every man
And did flourish in every poet

These birds sang and flied and shrouded my skies
In the farthest childhood of the world
For years and loves

My heart always beat in the rhythm of these belfries
And my soul has awaited these angels
Since it was created

And my hand only wrote
For this deed:
For me to stop being,
For me to become a candlelight in the vastness of the rising darkness
And to give myself away
To the sun, to the sea
To the silent death of this,
My last day

Or a forget-me-not carried by the wind
To the precious hand
That caresses the cheeks of those who sleep
On the purple grass of Oblivion
_________________
MI BLOG DE LITERATURA:

¡PASEN Y LLÉVENSE UN TRAGO A ELECCIÓN!

http://www.dernestdesrabe.blogspot.com