The beauty of thine essence is the one, which never to be compared to ye. As, thou art the miracle of this alluring nature. And thy is the beauty which exhibits thousand works of the superior lord. From whence I saw those glittering eyes shining as the ray of the divine sunshine, my night was filled with thy sweven. Feeling as if thou art among the stars of the welkin. Thine is the beauty I pore on day and night. As, thou art born to be lauded.
…So. I said: what is beauty? He said: it is the impossible being real, it is the kohl of a string on the forefingers of a guitar player, it is the explosion of astonishment on a beautiful lady’s waist, it
I’ll teach you how to read How soft the pages feel underneath your rough fingertips I’ll teach you how to play the violin, How music reveals what’s been hidden for years I’ll teach you how to braid your hair To
In the dust storm a discarded moon sat in my lap. Then internal rhythm crashed. Amorphic I would not find the music of words translated into a kiss. Gold started weeping in my hands. The clouds will rest after committing
The bygone art, a dead shrine; Thou not dead, thou live… shall live By art of carve that plays on and will it play Forever, timeless, in century’s lap The beauty, thou struck me a year back: So calm, so