Beauty of Morality

N0 5

My beloved

I

My beloved encore1 tender and fresh in your dress,

Who never falls in love in your whole existence.

In my delicate life, you are the dear essence2.

O my heartthrob, I search in you the happiness

Of the amour and of essential tenderness.

II

The ineffable sweetness of your soft temper3

Urges the resistance of the obstination

Of my heart to throw me in the renunciation4,

In the prayer and tears so that you just alter

Your feeling in direction of your admirer.

III

All men around you are so sparkling in the acts,

But vain in their promises. This is in me, you

May find the true love without shock of improptu5

Sodomy, a true love with some honest contracts

Of felicity quite real, out of other pacts.

IV

If Adam and Eve lived again, I would ask them

How using in the romance: flowers, fruits, trees, shore,

Birds. If Romero and Juliette lived encore,

I would ask them to talk about the anadem6

Of love, the innocencity and diadem7.

V

Noting is sweeter than bleeding – heart zeals making

Both hearts live in a same envy. Ah! How it is

Sweet to love when both hearts are faithful and increase

In the cradle of faith, a love that is looking

Like a father who contemplates his first suckling8.

IV

A great moral value in your nature mirrors

All times and charms my soul. It will be likable

Of seeing you by my choice to be my able

Soul mate by sharing some flickering demeanors

Of softness, more for our better behaviors.

1encore means again, one more time. 2essence means state of soul. 3temper means character, attitude. Renunciation means fast. 5impromptu means sudden. 6anadem means potential. 7diadem means integrity. 8suckling means baby.

N0 9

Broken love

I

In the back of garden, under dropplets of night

You remain unseen; you burst into tears alone.

What depressed tragedy gently moves on your slight

Soul? Dark remembrances in the past that inflame,

A lasting regret and a clear conscience that blame

You as your parents, that1 do not want to have gone.

II

You vainly realize in the surface of the time

A hurt whose person is unable of healing.

What misfortune is picking your freshing springtime!

O love! O my young partner! O my hopefulness!

Nothing from me can cease the course of your distress!

On screen of your sad eyes flashes the coveting2

III

In the other side and in the glidded evenings,

You see the voguish women to the delighted

And dreamful eyes to spark as of brilliant beings3

In many thriving treasures that Jehovah veils

Us, from4 them5 this is one that6 at our sight unveils.

The distress of life brings in your heart the hatred.

IV

You never see a nectared7 fruit in a hamper

Deteriorating8 before you enjoy it.

O admirable creature! O my well – wisher!

You mislead in the labyrinth of your fury.

The vanity is a point in time of folly

That makes our women dance on the blameworthy beat.

V

N0 15

Do you exist?

I

Who are you? Where do you remain cloudy1

For so many years? Where will you come from?

From mountain, from city or from village.

Without knowing you, you always turn me

On; you always give me the push seldom2

To unveil your traces and your visage3.

II

I perceive your appeal and I feel your

Embrace by a mild breeze always