Droplet on the glass
tinkling on a summer's night
soft lips wait to taste


(Previously published in Poems Md, Apr 2008)

Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.

Mountain flowers open in our faces.
You and I are triply lost in wine.
I’m drunk, my friend, sleepy. Rise and go.
With your dawn lute, return, if you wish, and stay.

confused dreams of love
morning memories of past
hours to my awakening
deep whispers of the arriving dawn
song of impenetrable solitude

They mock the present and they haunt the past,
And in the future there is naught agleam
With hope, the soul desires, that at last
The heart pursuing does not find a dream.

All people dream, but not equally.
Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their mind,
Wake in the morning to find that it was vanity.

But the dreamers of the day are dangerous people,
For they dream their dreams with open eyes,
And make them come true.

At draw-gloves we'll play,
And prithee let's lay
A wager, and let it be this :
Who first to the sum
Of twenty shall come,
Shall have for his winning a kiss.

Draped in stores of knowledge,
The points of the verses
That Lalla sang, became,
Organic parts of her heart and soul;
Her self-consciousness awakened
And removed all doubts of death.

Solguden hver en Aften viger
Og i sin vaade Seng nedstiger,
Dog staaer hver Dag han aarle op. -
Ha, paa min Sjæl! en Dranker brøelte,
Hvis Viin i Vandets Sted han føelte,
Saa stod han ei for Middag op!

a river bank~
dragons on the carpet
bask under the sun