Beauty

(E.N.S   2002)



Like a light out of a tunnel,

The child comes to the world,

Crawling and crossing its short and long streets,

Feasting his eyes on its Beauty:

The beauty of stars making up the sky,

The beauty of roses draping the Earth,

The beauty of the blue sea wedding the blue sky,

Round, strong, small breasts energizing man’s thought.

O Beauty! O Beauty!

O Nature! O Woman!

Sweet words of a song sung all night,

Witty thoughts of Hamlet inspired a young poet,

Beauty, thou’ve your own seeds!

The child tilting his head back

To perceive his own deep roots.

Surprisingly, they were all

Torn from his father’s book,

And burned in his grandfather’s cradle.

O Beauty! O Beauty!

Lost in the woods,

Torn between the truths of the living and the dead,

The child yells out:

Who am I?

What am I?

Like a stranger in a long dark tunnel,

He seeks his own ego in a black panel.

Who am I?

What am I?

O Beauty! O Beauty!

Looking to himself

To spot some beautiful spots

But there are none.

He is like a dud wireless of the deaf,

Or a holed kettle on the shelf.

O Beauty! O Beauty!

The child presumes

His first life in the tunnel

Has darkened his self and

Black washed his stars.

Being now like a lily for the dead,

He is meant to smell and taste it,

But never, never be a bud of its belt.

O Beauty! O Beauty!