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True

Had spring’s gentle breezes never blown on greener fields
I would not know that thou art true.
If sheep unshorn had not been born to bleat
I would not know that thou art true.
And if the waving willow ’gainst the river never yields,
its branches ever true will still surely meet.

I dreamed a dream over eyes of gilt and pearl
until the heart could hold no more.
With sweetest breath thou breathest now so bold
until the heart could hold no more.
His spirit glides and rises as the playful merle
whose black is but a guise of love untold.

In wicked ways, the days of all deceit and lies,
the world returns to fake and fraud.
The maimed at heart are drunk and ever-drained:
the world returns to fake and fraud.
And if I had not thee to thank for guiding eyes,
it could be me who led that life so stained.

O hanging lights like lanterns of the gods unbound,
thou weavest maps and mark’st my ways.
So speckled in the heaven’s diamanté vault.
thou weavest maps and mark’st my ways.
Our journey is not led by light to run aground
with thou, my pilot, never finding fault.

The rich, the ruby rose of thine own lips will pass,
as time will take its toll on lovers’ lines.
Each luscious laugh and all-beguiling smile I hold,
as time will take its toll on lovers’ lines.
It is not me but thee I see inside the smoky glass,
as days both make us young and make us old.

And in these final hours I rest alone with thee,
my one, my all, my rising star.
The setting sun retires as every sun will do,
my one, my all, my rising star.
If all these years had tears ΄twixt thee and me,
I would not know that thou art true.

(2011)

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