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Through our own recovered innocence we discern the innocence of our neighbors.

quote by Henry David Thoreau
Added by Lucian Velea
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These Are Our Neighbors

Offered are no alternatives.
But complaints are voiced and heard.
Suggestions they have none.
But they come with venom,
On their tongues.
Exposing the teeth of wolves...
Seeking tender meat,
To consume and run!

These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.

These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.

Knockingdownwhatcanbefoundtogetnothin gdone.
Takingoutofcontextwithawishfailurecomes!

And these are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.

Yes these are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
And these are our neighbors...
Every one.

Pickinguptheirtelephonestogossipwithm orelies.
Hopingwhatissaidwillkeepthetruthindis guise.
To keep deceit and defeat on the rise!

And...
These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.

Yes...
These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.

Offered are no alternatives.
But complaints are voiced and heard.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Innocence Killed Me

INNOCENCE, INNOCENCE OH WHY DO I CRY? INNOCENCE, INNOCENCE WHERE IS THE TRUTH OVER THE LIE? INNOCENCE, INNOCENCE CAN THE GROUND KEEP ME DOWN? INNOCENCE OH INNOCENCE, WHO KEEPS PULLING YOU DOWN?

FAIL TO THE SYSTEM MY INNOCENCE WAS TAKING AWAY
I WISH FOR IT BACK EACH AND EVERY DAY
AS I LIE SMOTHERED UNDERGROUND
I COULD HAVE SURVIVED IF INNOCENCE WOULD HAVE STAYED AROUND
MY SHELTER, MY GROUND, AND ALSO MY ROOF
WHICH WAS DESIGNED ONLY TO PROTECT MY PROOF
EVIDENCE IS SUBMITTED ONLY TO HELP
WHEN I TURNED TO LOOK INTO YOUR EYES YOU LEFT
SEEKING WEALTH
ONLY TO LEAVE ME INSIDE AN EMPTY CHAMBER
FILLED WITH SO MUCH MAINLY ANGER
MY DISAPPOINTMENT IS PERCEIVED AS RAGE
IT'S JUST A CRAZE
TO BE TAKEN OUT OF MY MISERY RELEASED FROM THIS CAGE

INNOCENCE, INNOCENCE OH WHY I CRY? INNOCENCE, INNOCENCE WHERE IS THE TRUTH OVER THE LIE? INNOCENCE, INNOCENCE CAN THE GREED KEEP ME DOWN? INNOCENCE OH INNOCENCE, WHO KEEPS PULLING YOU DOWN?

NEGATIVE INTERIOR EMOTIONALLY INFERIOR
WHY DOES MY FREEDOM HAVE TO BE DESTROYED OVER MATERIAL?
LOOKING AT INNOCENCE AND IT SEEMS SO STRANGE.
LOOKING AT MY SITUATION AND REALIZING NOTHING WILL CHANGE.
PURE INJUSTICE TRAIL IS NOT THE SAME.
TAKING MENTAL PICTURES PLACING THEM INSIDE A FRAME.
WHEN THEY ENTER HELL HOPELY THEY BURN IN FLAMES.
I WILL NEVER BE THE SAME.
TO DEATH WHAT IS GAIN?
TO BONDAGE WHAT IS A CHAIN?

INNOCENCE WAS SLAINED AS THEY SCREAMED OUT MY NAME I'M ASKING FOR CHANGE GOT DEATH IN EXCHANGE PARDON MY SCREAM AND KICKS FORGET ABOUT MY INNOCENCE FREEDOM INVOLVE TRICKS AND I CAN'T HELP BUT LAUGH MY INNOCENCE IS THE ONLY REASON I GOT STABBED ON THIS SLAB AS I'M SLICED IN HALF REACHING FOR THE INNOCENCE THAT I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO GRAB YELLING OUT SO UNJUST VOICE YELLS OUT HUSH AND RUSH INTO MY EMBRACE AS THEY REVIVE MY SPIRIT AND TOUCH MY FACE. IS IT GOD OR INNOCENCE THAT I CHASE?

INNOCENCE, INNOCENCE WHY DO I CRY? INNOCENCE, INNOCENCE WHERE IS THE TRUTH OVER THE LIE? INNOCENCE, INNOCENCE CAN GREED KEEP ME DOWN?
INNOCENCE OH INNOCENCE, WHO KEEPS PULLING YOU DOWN.

poem by Courtney Steele
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The Most Complex Of All The Symptoms Of Impossible Loving...

Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new kind of enchantment waiting to be discovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new form of enchantment waiting to be discovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new kind of refinement waiting to be discovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new form of refinement waiting to be discovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new kind of threshold waiting to be discovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new form of threshold waiting to be discovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new kind of splendour waiting to be discovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new form of splendour waiting to be discovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new kind of enchantment waiting to be recovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new form of enchantment waiting to be recovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new kind of refinement waiting to be recovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new form of refinement waiting to be recovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new kind of threshold waiting to be recovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new form of threshold waiting to be recovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new kind of splendour waiting to be recovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new form of splendour waiting to be recovered...

SÃO PAULO_JUN/2006

poem by Hedilberto Ferreirah
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My Old Lover

I've yet not recovered...
From you,
My old lover.
No!
I've yet not recovered...
From you,
My old lover.

I find you right here on my mind,
When under covers.

I find I'm giving you my time,
When with another.

Although there's someone new.
Someone that is not you...
But another!
I sleep with.
And here,
As my lover.

I find you right here on my mind,
When with another.

I find I'm giving you my time,
With another lover.

Why are you on my mind?
When you told me to find,
Another...
To discover,
Since we didn't have each other.

I've yet not recovered...
From you,
My old lover.
No!
I've yet not recovered...
From you,
My old lover.

Although there's someone new.
Someone that is not you...
But another!
I sleep with.
And here,
As my lover.

Although there's someone new.
Someone that is not you...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Just to Show the Kids Today What Innocence Is

Remember those lollipops we liked alot and licked.
I remember licking every bit and saving the sticks.

Remember spending nickels to get five hot rockets.
Sucking those hot balls until the juice dripped from our lips.

Do you remember candy dots on strips of paper...
With every flavor there but chocolate.

Those times are gone but innocence should be held over.
Just to show the kids today what innocence is!
And...
Those times are gone but innocence should be held over.
Just to show the kids today what innocence is!

Remember those lollipops we liked alot and licked.
I remember licking every bit and saving the sticks.

Remember spending nickels to get five hot rockets.
Sucking those hot balls until the juice dripped from our lips.

Do you remember candy dots on strips of paper...
With every flavor there but chocolate.

Those times are gone but innocence should be held over.
Just to show the kids today what innocence is!
And...
Those times are gone but innocence should be held over.
Just to show the kids today what innocence is!

There were many benefits to being young and innocent.

Those times are gone but innocence should be held over.
Just to show the kids today what innocence is!

There were many benefits to being young and innocent.

Those times are gone but innocence should be held over.
Just to show the kids today what innocence is!

Just to show them proof that innocence once lived!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Innocence Again

Do you remember when
You were way back then
You held the world inside your hands
When you told me love
Was the strongest stuff
Your strength was innocence
But, oh man
The signs of the times are omens
You're starting the day in
No man's land again
Who are you gonna be?
When you're on your knees, who do you believe? (oh, oh, oh)
Fear is a lonely man
You've been given innocence
You've been given innocence again
You should know by now
That your darkest hour
Is when your broken heart goes down
It's a bitter end
When the sweet begins
Grace is sufficiency
But, oh dear, we'll never deserve it
No dear, we never could earn it
Now, here the choice is yours
Who are you gonna be?
When you're on your knees, who do you believe? (oh, oh, oh)
Fear is a lonely man
You've been given innocence
You've been given innocence again
Grace is high and low
Grace is high and low
Grace is high and low
We'll never be the same
Who are you gonna be?
When you're on your knees, who do you believe? (oh, oh, oh)
Fear is a lonely man
You've been given innocence
You've been given innocence again
oh, oh, oh...
You've been given innocence, innocence, innocence.
Who are you gonna be...
You've been given innocence.

song performed by Switchfoot
Added by Lucian Velea
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Innocence Taken

Innocence taken
by those who thought
that it was ok to lie
by those who thought
nothing matters
Innocence taken
no longer available
Innocence unable
to ever speak again
Innocence silenced
to soon
Innocence taken
there's no truth over the lie
Innocence taken
by those who thought
I'll be the same again
by those who thought
its ok to kill
by those who thought
it's ok to take
Innocence replaced
by fear and mistrust
Innocence disappeared
before it came
Innocence taken
by those who
laughed at every cry
by those who had none
Innocence reflecting
a little girls eyes
innocence taken away
without my permission

poem by Kiara Davar
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Barton Leas

You can't see the tiny village
In the bush, called Barton Leas
For it's hidden in a hollow,
Down a track and through the trees,
And you'd pass it on the highway
Never knowing where to stop,
If it wasn't for a broken sign
That indicates a shop.

There are just two dozen houses
By the shop, a little pub,
And an oval with no grass on
All burnt up, just like the scrub,
While the buildings look forsaken
Peeling paint in every street,
And the roofs are made of iron
Fending off the scorching heat.

You would think the place deserted
If you ventured there by day,
For the streets are always empty
Like the folk have gone away,
But that's only in the summer
When the sun is at its height,
If you want to see some movement
Then, you have to go at night.

For it's then that all the neighbors
Gather, drinking at the pub,
Or go out to tend their gardens
Though their gardens are burnt up,
For it hasn't rained in Barton Leas
For years that I can see
When a passing shower startled them,
The first since fifty-three.

The people seemed so friendly
When John Inkerman turned up,
He was just a passing drifter
Quite a jolly, friendly chap,
And the locals thought he'd fit right in
And rented him a place,
They would pay him for odd jobs,
Invite him round for tea and cake.

There had never been an argument
Before in Barton Leas,
For the folk were all good neighbors
Helped each other, tried to please,
But when Inkerman had called and

[...] Read more

poem by David Lewis Paget
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The Talking Oak

Once more the gate behind me falls;
Once more before my face
I see the moulder'd Abbey-walls,
That stand within the chace.

Beyond the lodge the city lies,
Beneath its drift of smoke;
And ah! with what delighted eyes
I turn to yonder oak.

For when my passion first began,
Ere that, which in me burn'd,
The love, that makes me thrice a man,
Could hope itself return'd;

To yonder oak within the field
I spoke without restraint,
And with a larger faith appeal'd
Than Papist unto Saint.

For oft I talk'd with him apart
And told him of my choice,
Until he plagiarized a heart,
And answer'd with a voice.

Tho' what he whisper'd under Heaven
None else could understand;
I found him garrulously given,
A babbler in the land.

But since I heard him make reply
Is many a weary hour;
'Twere well to question him, and try
If yet he keeps the power.

Hail, hidden to the knees in fern,
Broad Oak of Sumner-chace,
Whose topmost branches can discern
The roofs of Sumner-place!

Say thou, whereon I carved her name,
If ever maid or spouse,
As fair as my Olivia, came
To rest beneath thy boughs.---

"O Walter, I have shelter'd here
Whatever maiden grace
The good old Summers, year by year
Made ripe in Sumner-chace:

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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The Talking Oak

Once more the gate behind me falls;
Once more before my face
I see the moulder'd Abbey-walls,
That stand within the chace.

Beyond the lodge the city lies,
Beneath its drift of smoke;
And ah! with what delighted eyes
I turn to yonder oak.

For when my passion first began,
Ere that, which in me burn'd,
The love, that makes me thrice a man,
Could hope itself return'd;

To yonder oak within the field
I spoke without restraint,
And with a larger faith appeal'd
Than Papist unto Saint.

For oft I talk'd with him apart
And told him of my choice,
Until he plagiarized a heart,
And answer'd with a voice.

Tho' what he whisper'd under Heaven
None else could understand;
I found him garrulously given,
A babbler in the land.

But since I heard him make reply
Is many a weary hour;
'Twere well to question him, and try
If yet he keeps the power.

Hail, hidden to the knees in fern,
Broad Oak of Sumner-chace,
Whose topmost branches can discern
The roofs of Sumner-place!

Say thou, whereon I carved her name,
If ever maid or spouse,
As fair as my Olivia, came
To rest beneath thy boughs.---

"O Walter, I have shelter'd here
Whatever maiden grace
The good old Summers, year by year
Made ripe in Sumner-chace:

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Clergyman’s Second Tale

Edward and Jane a married couple were,
And fonder she of him or he of her
Was hard to say; their wedlock had begun
When in one year they both were twenty-one;
And friends, who would not sanction, left them free.
He gentle-born, nor his inferior she,
And neither rich; to the newly-wedded boy,
A great Insurance Office found employ.
Strong in their loves and hopes, with joy they took
This narrow lot and the world’s altered look;
Beyond their home they nothing sought or craved,
And even from the narrow income saved;
Their busy days for no ennui had place,
Neither grew weary of the other’s face.
Nine happy years had crowned their married state
With children, one a little girl of eight;
With nine industrious years his income grew,
With his employers rose his favour too;
Nine years complete had passed when something ailed,
Friends and the doctors said his health had failed,
He must recruit, or worse would come to pass;
And though to rest was hard for him, alas!
Three months of leave he found he could obtain,
And go, they said, get well and work again.
Just at this juncture of their married life,
Her mother, sickening, begged to have his wife.
Her house among the hills in Surrey stood,
And to be there, said Jane, would do the children good.
They let their house, and with the children she
Went to her mother, he beyond the sea;
Far to the south his orders were to go.
A watering-place, whose name we need not know,
For climate and for change of scene was best:
There he was bid, laborious task, to rest.
A dismal thing in foreign lands to roam
To one accustomed to an English home,
Dismal yet more, in health if feeble grown,
To live a boarder, helpless and alone
In foreign town, and worse yet worse is made,
If ’tis a town of pleasure and parade.
Dispiriting the public walks and seats,
The alien faces that an alien meets;
Drearily every day this old routine repeats.
Yet here this alien prospered, change of air
Or change of scene did more than tenderest care:
Three weeks were scarce completed, to his home,
He wrote to say, he thought he now could come,
His usual work was sure he could resume,
And something said about the place’s gloom,
And how he loathed idling his time away.

[...] Read more

poem by Arthur Hugh Clough from Mari Magno or Tales on Board
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Let Joy And Innocence Prevail

I tell you of a girl her husband was a soldier
gone to war in some strange country far away
no word had come to her
but the rumour of great battles fought
and dying in their thousands and the world full of fear
as the day would turn to evening she would a pure white candle
and place it in a window bright from where it could be seen
as she placed it in the window softly ? and ?
she said let this burning candle be a beacon
let joy and innocence prevail
let joy and innocence prevail
believe that luck will never fail
let joy and innocence prevail
and one night, asleep, she dreamed she saw her husband
fall in a great white cavilry charge
and waking in tears she saw the candle burning in the window
she still had hope
and through the window a man in the distance
but has he came closer, she saw he was a stranger
the stranger said I bring a message from a general
your captain has been wounded, his life hangs by a thread
he calls out your name and he wishes you to come to him
but the journey is a hard road and you may be afraid
and she laughed and said no road could be too hard for I am fearless
a captain and a husband I have gained this bright new day
and she said with all her heart she would fly to be beside hik
and her love would heal his wounds restore him to her
let joy and innocence prevail
let joy and innocence prevail
believe that luck will never fail
let joy and innocence prevail
let joy and innocence prevail
let joy and innocence prevail
believe that luck will never fail
let joy and innocence prevail
let joy and innocence prevail

song performed by Grace Jones
Added by Lucian Velea
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Paradise Lost: Book 09

No more of talk where God or Angel guest
With Man, as with his friend, familiar us'd,
To sit indulgent, and with him partake
Rural repast; permitting him the while
Venial discourse unblam'd. I now must change
Those notes to tragick; foul distrust, and breach
Disloyal on the part of Man, revolt,
And disobedience: on the part of Heaven
Now alienated, distance and distaste,
Anger and just rebuke, and judgement given,
That brought into this world a world of woe,
Sin and her shadow Death, and Misery
Death's harbinger: Sad talk!yet argument
Not less but more heroick than the wrath
Of stern Achilles on his foe pursued
Thrice fugitive about Troy wall; or rage
Of Turnus for Lavinia disespous'd;
Or Neptune's ire, or Juno's, that so long
Perplexed the Greek, and Cytherea's son:

If answerable style I can obtain
Of my celestial patroness, who deigns
Her nightly visitation unimplor'd,
And dictates to me slumbering; or inspires
Easy my unpremeditated verse:
Since first this subject for heroick song
Pleas'd me long choosing, and beginning late;
Not sedulous by nature to indite
Wars, hitherto the only argument
Heroick deem'd chief mastery to dissect
With long and tedious havock fabled knights
In battles feign'd; the better fortitude
Of patience and heroick martyrdom
Unsung; or to describe races and games,
Or tilting furniture, imblazon'd shields,
Impresses quaint, caparisons and steeds,
Bases and tinsel trappings, gorgeous knights
At joust and tournament; then marshall'd feast
Serv'd up in hall with sewers and seneshals;
The skill of artifice or office mean,
Not that which justly gives heroick name
To person, or to poem. Me, of these
Nor skill'd nor studious, higher argument
Remains; sufficient of itself to raise
That name, unless an age too late, or cold
Climate, or years, damp my intended wing
Depress'd; and much they may, if all be mine,
Not hers, who brings it nightly to my ear.
The sun was sunk, and after him the star
Of Hesperus, whose office is to bring

[...] Read more

poem by John Milton
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Door To Door

Find me out awalkin, time the whistle starts acallin,
Maybe stoppin early, knockin at your door.
Take so long to answer, lord knows it aint the milkman
Could be stoppin early, sellin door to door.
Heres my latest sample; like to show you how to use it.
First, you pull the curtain while I spread some here.
Wipe the surface gently, try to use a circle motion,
Safe for all your problems, and my price is fair.
This stuffll get the stain out if you use it loosely wadded;
This herell take the pain out and wont mess your hair.
Place your order early cause you know Im in a hurry;
Your neighbors in her doorway, wont you sign right here.
Place your order early cause you know Im in a hurry;
Your neighbors in her doorway, wont you sign right here.
Man is on the last train, all that work and no play,
Could be stoppin early, knockin at your door.
Time for me to head on; pack my kit and so long;
Catch you bright and early sellin door to door.
This stuffll get the stain out if you use it loosely wadded;
This herell take the pain out and wont mess your hair.
Place your order early cause you know Im in a hurry;
Your neighbors in her doorway, wont you sign right here.
Place your order early cause you know Im in a hurry;
Your neighbors in her doorway, wont you sign right here.
Place your order early cause you know Im in a hurry;
Your neighbors in her doorway, wont you sign right here.
(repeat 2x)

song performed by Creedence Clearwater Revival
Added by Lucian Velea
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Bank Of Bad Habits

The rumors and the stories of my past I cant deny
Im no saint ignatius but again Im no barfly
The wrong thing is the right thing until you lose control
Ive got this bank of bad habits in a corner of my soul
Bank of bad habits
The price of vice fortold
One by one theyll do you in
Theyre bound to take their toll
The wrong thing is the right thing until you lose control
Ive got this bank of bad habits in a corner of my soul
Last night I said goodbye to a dear old friend of mine
Just a throw back shell beach party, nothin really asinine
Rum and cooked animals and bullshit by the ton
That party lasted way too long and I had too much fun
Bank of bad habits
The price of vice fortold
One by one theyll do you in
Theyre bound to take their toll
The wrong thing is the right thing until you lose control
Ive got this bank of bad habits in a corner of my soul
That bank of bad habits is worth its weight in gold
Time for you to spend that dough
Youre the only one you owe
So put away those alibis
You cant fool that banker in the sky
(spoken)
Now let me tell you about the 7 deadly sins:
1. pride...thou shalt not have pride in thy neighbor.
2. coveting...thou shalt not covet thy neighbors wife.
3. lust...thou shalt not lust after his neighbors wife.
4. anger...do not be angry with your neighbors wife.
5. gluttony...do not eat thy neighbors wifes ........popcorn.
6. envy...do not envy your neighbors wife.
7. sloth...do not be a slob.
And the eighth deadly sin is............pizza!
A pictures worth a thousand words just ask a cameraman
And its no sin to stop and look, I do it when I can
But you have to purge that urge to merge
You have to keep your head
Or trouble is what you will find inside some strangers bed
Bank of bad habits
The price of vice foretold
One by one theyll do you in
Theyre bound to take their toll
The wrong thing is the right thing until you lose control
Ive got this bank of bad habits
Its worth its weight in gold
(spoken)
Yeah, were talkin krugerands......dubloons
I was wonderin, um, do you think they have an atm machine for bad habits?

[...] Read more

song performed by Jimmy Buffett
Added by Lucian Velea
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Grant Us Peace, Father of Abraham, Isaac and Ishmael

Grant us peace,
that we may not oppress our neighbors
Grant us justice,
that we may not enslave our neighbors
Grant us sanity,
that we may not torture our neighbors
Grant us mercy,
that we may not murder our neighbors
Grant us conscience
that we may not expel our neighbors

Grant us love,
that we may hunger for truth
Grant us discernment
that we may know what is ours, and what is not
Grant us decency
that we may return what we stole
Grant us courage
that we may admit what we’ve done
Give us strength to atone.

Ask only
that we end our silence.

poem by Bob Green
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Innocence Is A Harmonic Restoration Seed

innocence is a blessing easily tarnished
innocence sees beauty even in dark souls
innocence has belief to calm brutal beasts
innocence is a sacred gift easily forfeit lost

innocence has faith to restore hardened hearts
innocence has vision to invoke creative remedies
innocence is a unique seed of passion harmonies
innocence has truth to see path to restorations
innocence has patience to work new miracles

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Innocence Matter: Restoration Perfection

Innocence is the question?
Innocence is the X factor?
Innocence is life mortality?
Innocence is sinless state immortality?

Innocence is physical perfection?
Innocence is purity soul divinity?
Innocence is state of grace harmony?
Innocence is Trinity creation link eternity?
Innocence is life breath immortality?

poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Benefit Of This Is Missed

It's better with a bit of innocence.
Better with a benefit of it,
Yes.
It's better with a bit of innocence.
Better with a benefit of it,
And...
So much exposed has people sick.
It's better with a bit of innocence.
And wish they do for peace and quietness.
It's better with a benefit of it!
Yes.

So many are lost for many reasons.
And destroyed by the cost of losing innocence.
Many wish for a taste of more sweetened seasons.
Wanting to reminisce,
A beneift missed.

People wish to unlock their doors to explore.
Remembering when there was an innocence of this.
Many are seeking a life to live adored.
Knowing how beneficial and wanting this more.

So many are lost for many reasons.
And destroyed by the cost of losing innocence.
Many wish for a taste of more sweetened seasons.
Wanting to reminisce,
A beneift missed.

It's better with a bit of innocence.
Better with a benefit of it,
Yes.
It's better with a bit of innocence.
Better with a benefit of it,
And...
So much exposed has people sick.
It's better with a bit of innocence.
And wish they do for peace and quietness.
It's better with a benefit of it!
Yes.
And the benefit of this is missed.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Land Of Innocence

Nightfall in my childhood,
Memories of my future send
Their scent in my mind...

My life and my feelings now?
A knife through my heart,
Sins that torn apart
The once-innocent mind...

The moon’s glance falls over the
Garden of my childhood,
There, where beauty is still untainted,
When I was as fresh as the morning dew...
I remember those feelings so well,
I keep them hidden in a safe place,
Locked inside my heart!

I believed then in the snowy-egret nymph,
I thought she came to me at night,
And carried me above the water
Through the Danube Delta,
To see the secret lagoons
Covered up by weeping willows,
To see the black swans as they dance,
As they perform a sacred ritual of nature,
To see the pelicans as they sleep.
Gazing at the black egrets,
As the wind smoothes their soft feathers,
To see those black ballerinas
As they all reveal an unknown passion:
The passion for the night!

And my dreams were beautiful then,
My voice was clear and sweet,
My mind was innocent and true,
Not touched by the perverted hand of life...

And it’s true what the nymph said to me,
Looking in my eyes, singing softly to my ear:

“From cradle to coffin,
You shall dream,
You shall wish and hope!
But remember, innocence can never be lost,
You will always have it inside,
Take your memories, put them aside,
And you shall find it
Right there; innocence stays! ”

How can I break away from what I am now,

[...] Read more

poem by Elya Thorn
Added by Poetry Lover
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