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Wladyshaw did whisper,
she whispered toward my ear.
Softly her being spoke,
she spoke for only me to hear.
Wladyshaw did whisper,
Lady so sure and so clear.
Around the legends of
Naples, wherethe heart of time deos beat,
Somewhere absorbed in
laughter is time and its grip so discreet.
Wladyshaw did whisper
this, all, the legends, the beats.
Wladyshaw then touched my
face, a portion so old and worn.
She kissed my ruby lips,
which were sad and edging worn.
Wladyshaw, oh Lady so
sure, to me all the treasures she has sworn.
Winds Of Fate
Where does the smoke go
when it rises or falls?
Where does the gray blow
when its black uncurls?
Where does the wind go
with fire's subtle pearls?
Where do the leaves go
when they wither then fall?
Where in the heavy snow
or weeds that die tall?
Where can the wind blow
the leaves of ach fall?
Where does one heart go
when it has risen to fall?
Where in the lonely snow
or crowds that die tall?
Where can the currents flow
to lead on a new call? |
