Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
Would not paint - a picture -
I'd rather be the One
It's bright impossibility
To dwell - delicious - on -
And wonder how the fingers feel
Whose rare - celestial - stir -
Evokes so sweet a Torment -
Such sumptuous - Despair -
I would not talk, like Cornets -
I'd rather be the One
Raised softly to Horizons -
And out, and easy on -
Through Villages of Ether -
Myself upborne Balloon
By but a lip of Metal -
The pier to my Pontoon -

Nor would I be a Poet -
It's finer - own the Ear -
Enamored - impotent - content -
The License to revere,
A privilege so awful
What would the Dower be,
Had I the Art to stun myself
With Bolts - of Melody.

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    Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz

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