Love, oh wondrous, we sink in radiant gleam,
A sun of passion’s blaze, our souls agleam.
On calm waters, where stars slumber deep,
White Ophelia floats, a lily’s grace to keep;
Slowly drifting, veils of longing sprawl,
In distant woods, mort’s echoes softly call.
For countless years, sad Ophelia’s plight,
A phantom gliding down the river’s night;
Her sweet madness sings a ballad’s sway,
To evening’s breeze, in timeless array.
The wind’s soft touch, caressing with delight,
Unfurls her veils, dancing with water’s might;
Willows shiver, weeping on her tender frame,
Rushes bow, as dreams gently proclaim.
Around her, ruffled water-lilies sigh,
A slumbering alder cradles with a sigh;
A nest awakens, wings in whispers stir,
A mysterious anthem from stars does inter.
O pale Ophelia, fair as winter’s snow,
Carried by a river’s flow, you go;
The winds from Norway’s peaks did call,
Voices of freedom in whispers small.
A breath of wind, her flowing hair it kissed,
Strange rumors in her dreaming mind persist;
Her heart attuned to nature’s soulful hum,
In tree’s lament and night’s tender thrum.
The voice of mad seas, roaring fierce and grand,
Shattered a heart too soft for such demand;
A handsome knight, a poor, lost soul’s grace,
In April’s morn, found a solemn place.
Heaven! Love! Freedom! A dream so dear,
She melted like snow before love’s sear;
Her visions vast, her words did choke,
Infinity’s fear in her eyes awoke.
The poet speaks of starlit nights,
When she seeks flowers in pale moonlight;
On water’s surface, veils enfold,
White Ophelia’s beauty, like a lily bold.
Ophelia, a timeless tale of art,
A modern voice embraces your heart;
In love’s depths, your spirit soars high,
In verses fine, your legacy shall never die.
:: 08.02.2023 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 