As sleepers floated in their deepest slumbers

In purple and pink, successive dawns were swelling

While in waters swans were elegantly gliding

We felt the shivering breaths of a new spring.

A cerulean serenity had enveloped our dreams

And the sky winked with hope from a distance

In a moment, we were left without defenses

At the point where providence meets resolve

God made our dreams bloom.

The overflowing fountain has come to life again

Breezes high and low promising a bright future

Everywhere embraced by a blessed joy

And the happiest days of life I longed for

Were being lived in the deepest sense, once again.

A pristine spring, with its fresh verdant hues

Like the patterns and colors of the past

The people found the touchstone they had lost

Making up for the great loss they sought

Purple rosebuds on heavenly hills.

With the breeze blowing, now grasses atone

In the lands, once struck lifeless by autumn, are new roses

As if the Trumpet has blown, the dead are resurrected

Along with them in this azure dream

Grieving hearts attain reunion. 

Grief of separation consumes the lover, and yet

even in gloomiest hours, he never despairs of ‘spring’;

journeying from desert to desert amid bitter tears

in ever-constant hope of the union he desires.

He weeps from deep within a heart like embers,

always alert and on the move as if chasing gazelle,

drunk upon hope of the beloved who eludes him

and whom he finds again in his nightly dreams.

Phantoms of anxiety beset his spirit, on his face

now joy shines like sunrise, now sunset gloom;

at times the door is ajar on a far landscape just

perceptible, it’s colours and tones hinting Paradise.

A moment comes when despair overwhelms and hope

seems unrecoverable, and then another when dawn breaks

in perfumed brightness. At times he withers like leaves,

melts like candles, and his sobbing his heard from afar.

Even then, in never-ending autumn, the root of his desire

flowers in hope, he transforms the grief of separation

into longing music, makes deepest wells of sorrow

brim with joy, celebrating the immortality of Love.

In the deep wells of his eyes a meaning settles

from the eternal life and is present in his looks and smile;

his feelings sound the depths of eternity, then flow out

like soil-enriching river floods or fertile winds.

Whoever truly loves understands love is everything;

that it may be either fatal poison or elixir of life;

but whoever loves the Truth and pursues the ways

to the Eternal Being knows it as inspiration, as life.

***