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White Swan

Gentle stroke and hair pushed back, aren’t you a dream
That once lived can’t get enough, sweet lily, you give
All that’s good and fairly change into something new.
When did wings grow on light back, beauty fades, yours blooms;
Is it easy to lose faith, rotting sorrow’s seeds?

On the way where Life meets Death, crows are circling,
White swan’s near, dares one upset pure thing?
Slow approach, in gloomy eyes starts to shift,
Oh, sweet woman dressed in wit, at crossroads we meet;
The spinney spins, this lady’s swept me off my feet.

Let us be forever free, dance among red flies
And sweet sonnets locked to keep from a poet’s eyes
For they tear and spit and grip onto their lives
Just to suffice lacking it: music of the heart;
Run away in rhymes and schemes, lover, please take flight.

Did you see how fast they hear mockeries and lies
Then reshape them with their gears into the fairest truth,
Write, loner until decay but honesty’s in skill.
Can you grow wings like my sweetheart and betray your will
Or stuck you will forever be in a block of ice?

Source: Dante and Beatrice by Salvatore Postiglione, 1906

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