Summer Sons by Eliza Witte - HTML preview
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Eliza Witte
Copyright (c) 2019 Eliza Witte Copyright on design (c) 1977 Eliza Witte (R) Eliza Witte All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 978-1-4709-6347-7
To obtain permission, please, contact:
elizawitte@gmail.com
To the Bohemian Prince who did not happen to be my eternity.
The Author
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T here by the lighthouse embraced by the mist, H eaving up eastward is the pride of your ship, E ntagled, the seagrass will tell you the myths of a S ailer who solely conquers the deep A reas of your thoughts, daring your navy. The I les and the rocks to beware: she’s a L ady.
O f advantage deprived and of a
F ortuna t e star, she navigates
C rests, exploring your heart
O ver and over without a compass.
L eaving her fate on the lines of your past, O mitting maps and R ules too obscure, she happily
W recks in your arms and securely
H eaves the vessel upwards the ninth wave.
I rresistable passion makes her so brave T hat it is frightened when she turns to your core and E motively finds her promised shore.
5
W hen words are over
H ow does one
E voke the essence of the
N orms?
W hen time grows older
O r when the sun
R aises as a dark black
D ome,
S omeone’s poem in
A crostic
R ebuilds again the
E lysee.
O ver memories, too pale
V erses run to
E ven days where
R eposed just love remains.
6
Ich weiß nicht, was soll es bedeuten, Daß ich so traurig bin, Ein Märchen aus uralten Zeiten,
Das kommt Mir nicht aus dem Sinn.
Heinrich Heine
“I don’t know what this is,
And why I am so sad.
A fairy-tale amidst
Ol’ days I can’t forget.”
The maiden of the river
Cursed her vicious fate,
In golden locks and singing,
In waves that bathe the bay.
I often contemplate these
Verses of “Good-bye”:
Each woman’s sweet regrets
Meet one day Lorelei!
7
T e Deum partum
E lysee!
D ominus Sancti sit
E llatum,
U rsura
M atris in Vos.
