Thursday, July 7, 2011

Fragments




Imperceptibly by stealth

The pain of your departure has set

Lover, who never touched me

I have felt your hands in your eyes.

And grieved, grieved at their restraint.



Amongst the willows I lost my heart

the plaintive reeds sing my longing

in unison at dawn the wild geese soar.



The dogwoods are in bloom

giving lie to Winter’s hold

I trudge through muddy roads

thinking of Summer,  war’s end

And of life rising again out of the Tigris plain.


                                                                                                                                                                            Antonia Baranov

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