by Walter William Safar
In the service of its majesty- art,
I am flying on the wings of verses,
From heart to heart of everyone,
Because each person's tear is the same color.
Green as a young leaf today,
I am holding on to my tree - mankind,
Tomorrow as a dead dry leaf -
Thorn away from my mother tree,
On the soft back of the wind I travel
From century to century, on the paths of eternity.
In the service of her majesty- poetry,
I voice myself in verses:
"Look at the enchanting face of Mother Nature, man!
Can't you see the pearly tear, half-lit
By the reflection of the heavenly dawn
On the face of Earth?
Its virgin face - lit by the aura of God's mercy -
Hiding behind the oblique veil of death.
Don't you understand, man,
That nature can go on without you,
But you can't go on without nature?"
In the service of her majesty- Mother Nature,
I seek shelter for my wounded heart in prayers,
Because greed not only destroys the soul of mankind,
But the heart of Mother Nature too,
In deserts, black, red and blue seas
There are dark towers rising,
Thrusting its fangs into the heart of nature.
Black streams flow through its silent chest,
Like poisoned blood.
There are no more songs left in Mother Nature's lap,
Only seductive murmurs of black streams of oil,
The silence of dried up wells,
And the echo of stock brokers,
Who do not care for the wind's accusing scream.
In the service of its majesty, the soul,
I solemnly declare to the world:
"Without Mother Nature,
My voice would become inaudible.
Imagination, so irrepressibly flowing
Into the white stream of my inebriated dreaming,
Would leave so little trace behind
As does an abandoned orphan;
Without Mother Nature, my wings-verses wouldn't be there
For me to travel from heart to heart of everyone."
Last updated June 13, 2015