SAUNTER-LOSS

Even now, with the watchword of deliberate calm, The wandering clouds wander, three stone mountains with their curved muscular ridges Gently spreading in the bosom of the fertile valley, Standing with unruffled conviction the siege of the World! And as I watched the foolishly melancholy and hot-headed nature, I could have imagined how we embraced each other in our last moments: heart-broken, fused 

Like weary, drunken shipwrecked men, Who quench their thirst with passion's flame Instead of drops of water: In flesh, in bone, in blood-blood-blue, And in the beating channels of the vascular walls, All essence is filled when you are around me! My soul, tormented by long reveries, now rests with thee at last! - And in any way 

I could not wistfully make pilgrimage to thee, Hoping that with thy kisses' immortal flowers Thou may'st yet comfort me! What more could I do for thee? You tell me! I was defending the budding hopes of our love, when thou didst recklessly offer to another the Eden of our cherished kisses! 

All the joy and harmony - that ever was - was soon gone, shattered! Now, perhaps, forgotten, broken, we go our separate ways, We tread the carefully trodden footsteps of centuries, And rediscover them for ourselves. And the wasted, missed human events of our existence are affecting us like intense processes - more and more profoundly! The living conscience of your angelic being in me - that from you I can receive as a gift the Truth, the Beauty, and the Honesty, worth more than the world!