from Silent is the House
BY EMILY BRONTË
Come, the wind may never again
Blow as now it blows for us;
And the stars may never again shine as now they
shine;
Long before October returns,
Seas of blood will have parted us;
And you must crush the love in your heart, and I
the love in mine!
Was
it an October, of our southern Spring
In
those youthful days of heart’s blossom
Passion
so filled that it poured like sweat
And
you lost your self in the reflection in
the mirror of your heart
Was
it an October?
Just
like this one that I am living
In
Ecstasy
Where
ancient culture of mine caressed by
Winds
of a sister culture of our parched lands
At
the centre of the earth
That
October is long forgotten, children born and grown
Wheat
that swayed, long turned into taste
Trying
to forget, the wound slowly drips
Always
a face appears, which now frayed at the edges of time
It
was not love but a fire, the fragrance long since lost
But
embers still burn in the heart
Was
it an October?
Like
this October of ecstasy?
Welcome
to this world of magic
It
has always been, it always will be, and it is ours now
the winds from a sister country..
my ancient land..
