The evening is sharp with malignant birds,
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Who cry of lost paths and broken wings.
In their grief, I lose my thirst for words.
Of its estrangement, a lone thrush sings.
I bend to sip from the shining pool,
Which meets my mouth like a hungry lover.
I want to seduce this blue aquatic jewel
Into throwing off its shy silver cover.
For I am standing now, raw and chaste,
And aching to awaken my unconscious soul;
Which knows only that beautiful things donít last,
And that love is playing a double-sided role.
The birds are asleep, and no longer despair.
The moon eyes me, in the distant North.
And I wish I could escape my emotional lair,
And let my virgin soul venture forth.
As I stand there, naked in the disapproving night,
And lessen my breaths, till I am completely still,
I sense that I am in someoneís secret sight,
Someone closing in, like a wolf for the kill.
In fear and haste, I run to the wood.
A sob breaks on my trembling lips;
For I was so close to all that was Good,
And now, my soul has again been eclipsed.
Servitas a Periculum
Servatis a Maleficum