• Twenty-three mimosa blooms





    Life is perhaps a silent waltz

    Of a sky-blue skirt in the wind

    Señorita spinning around

    On the flat mud roof, feet unshod


    Life is perhaps the last twinkles

    Fading away in the glass eyes

    Of the sad doll cuddled to death

    And the young girl who wept rivers


    In the dark of the moonless night

    Cinderella shoe left behind

    Beneath the old pomegranate tree

    Awaiting the runaway prince


    In the dark of the moonless night

    The sad bluebell singing the blues

    Sky-blue dress waving in the wind

    Turning opal, then ebony


    Agony in the cold Northwind

    Bluebell stood there, lofty and proud

    Just a simple nod of the head

    And quiet tinklings of the heart


    Behold! Hidden lake in the eyes

    Tears that no one ever perceived

    Mourning the lacrima mortis 

    Shed from the blue eyes of a doll


    Behold! Sunlit bridal bouquet

    With twenty-three mimosa blooms

    On the waves, running with the wind

    To seashores far beyond the sphere


    Life is perhaps this silhouette

    Gently going down on its knees

    And the hands, clement and soothing

    Reaching out and washing your feet






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