| praise | ||||||||||
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
Two Poems
by Pawel Markieiwcz
The hymn to dreamed dawn
You are such Apollo in eternal bliss, so dreamful.
Your twilight under celestial moon is the hereafter.
You are an embracing of the rainbow, drawn by the bard.
Your amaranthine, tender whisper belongs to the lord.
You fly into the moony dreamery full of fancy.
Your august, cute, dazzling paradise is like poetry.
You seem to be gentle such a zeus-like dew at tender morns.
Your ontology is a plethora of Morningstars.
You was read such booklet with softly written mysteries.
Your amazing, dawn-like wings – drunken of the bewitchment.
You stay as stones of sempiternity of meek feelings.
Your beauty is not torn such an enchanted Golden Fleece.
You are Apollo’s greenery in temple of light naiads.
Your way into fullness is the treasure of some dryads.
You are mythos, born from the purest eschatology.
Your songs of lotus are traces of epistemology.
You daydreamt about the eudemonia of starry gods.
You are ephemeral ballads of dew and the goddess.
You are throne in temple, it is like the crucial dusk – moonlit.
Your sunglow and great moonshine have mayhap gold of the tears.
Ode to dreamful Erlking
You dreamful, dreamy, moony and dreamed King of Elves!
You became in the most amazing ways:
A dazzling statue of Buddha, as If a ghost created it from the moony dreameries.
A parrot on the statue: the paradise-like birdie, awoken from stunning, meek, tender dawn.
A bonfire – the shimmer in the soft night with its warmth born from the muses of the tenderness.
A bewitchment-enchantment of a bliss, that brings amaranthine wind from paradise.
A poet worships the statue belonging to the dreamery of the Erlkings from the morns.
A pearlful inspiration in the wise mind, full of eternity of the Morningstar.
The poet who writes the most dazzling poesy like soul-softness of muses with tears.
The bonfire is being adored by the awoken bird of the melancholy of the times.
A daydreaming of the sylvan elves, bewitched in the dawns and the gorgeous Golden Fleece.
A whisper, that melancholy, for me and fancy of sempiternity, gives.
We praise, You most tender Erlking, and your treasure:
ontology, eschatology, epistemology, ethics, aesthetics, logic, metaphysics, epicureanism and stoicism, all of them, enchanted by tender Buddha in a most picturesque way.
Rate this poetry.
Copyright is reserved by the author. Please do not reproduce any part of this article without consent.