My hands are in love, <br />alas, my mouth loves - <br />and see, I am suddenly aware <br />that things are so close to me <br />I can hardly walk among them <br />without suffering. <br /> <br />It is a sweet feeling <br />of waking, of dreaming, <br />and I am here now, without sleep - <br />I clearly see the ivory gods, <br />I take them in my hands and <br />thrust them, laughing, in the moon <br />up to their sculpted hilts - <br />the wheel of an ancient ship, adorned <br />and spun by sailors. <br /> <br />Jupiter is yellow, Hera <br />the magnificent shades to silver. <br />I strike the wheel with my left hand and it moves. <br />It is a dance of sentiments, my love, <br />many a goddess of the air, between the two of us. <br />And I, the sail of my soul <br />billowed with longing, <br />look for you everywhere, and things come <br />ever closer, <br />crowding my chest, hurting me.<br /><br />Nichita Stanescu<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-golden-age-of-love/
