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Kommentare der Mitglieder
Leser: 3437
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-10-12 | [Text in der Originalsprache: english] |
BLOSSOMED VOICES
A flower’s voice Is given by its scent. The sweet, inebriating blossoms Are the echoes of the flowers’ voices, They are the beloved But unheard sounds That fulfill our lungs and senses When we least expect it to happen. We can be calmly walking Along a solitary path And suddenly feel How we are mysteriously Invaded By the zephyr coming from The heavenly gardens. It is said that Flowers are speechless, But I can tell you They are not. Their unique voice is The white sound of silence, A sound fulfilled with Blossoms That only noble ears can hear. The voices of the flowers Are restless travelers That run On the mane of the wind From one soul to another, Aiming for unknown Distant and deserted places Whose destinies Need to be enriched. Like restless souls Of endless colors, They fly around the world In search for The gates of our souls. Silent phantoms, They spin in swirls Of unimaginable beauty Hiding under the mystery Of the green summer leaves, Or behind veils of blue clouds, They pass us by Without our being able To see their shape, Touch them or Embrace their delicate wings.
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