Wednesday, January 10, 2018

One afternoon at the balcony

'When hearts have once mingled
Love first leaves the well-built nest;
The weak one is singled
To endure what it once possessed.
O Love! who bewailest
The frailty of all things here,
Why choose you the frailest
For your cradle, your home, and your bier?'*

That she thought one afternoon so
Sitting at her balcony catching the softest glow
Of the sun of winter, languid and slow,

'Where has he gone, without telling me
Where has he gone, to which land or sea?'
She thought trying to picture his face,
Half charmed  by frost, half by light so blessed,
She wished she could go with him too
To the lands unknown, to get a view,
Of all things that he finds joy in
A scattered cloud, a simmering evening,
She wished she could call him by the breeze,
That blew from north , chilly to freeze
Her senses, her love, even her dreams,
She thought it would be her only way
To find him by her side on such a lovely day,
Just then on her purple and green
Floral dress she saw a butterfly sitting,
She was amazed and more by love wrought
' what really you to me so brought?'
She asked the butterfly, as she sat upon her
Taking a moment's rest after flying in from far,
' I was sent to you by the breeze from north
She who has always lived with starry frost,
She told me that you are thinking of him
That boy who had been busy painting a scene
Of wonder and magic and beauty all put together,
The breeze just told me to go near
To you and tell you that if the day is so bright
Why are you so mournful, when you can be alright?'

Hearing this from the butterfly's mouth
She from north just turned to south
And found how the warm breeze from sea
Came to tell her how it could really be
To think of her love as warm and true
To think of him as her never lost beau.

(* note: the quoted lines are of P.B. Shelley)

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