A golden light!
The young dawn whispers befittingly.
Long meandering rays of light,
An eternal glow,
Almost fictitious to my senses.
What beauty is this? What trivial fruits?
What curious candor…
I frequent these conceptions relentlessly,
Into the hallow void I dream the light to fill.
To take the edge of this mental scythe,
This rusted sickle.
I implore this glowing muse of dawn.
Of my dawn…
You have a name that sings
And the gentle smile of the mild midmorning dew.
I dream unceasingly, to love incessantly,