That sapphire sphere
Rises bold from the blue
Like the Sylph of Paradise
Whose chariot the stars drew,
A boon, charming the moon's beauty is,
Just to shape up the minarets of bliss.
The Golden Eagle spreads its wings at dawn
To set ablaze the world as the hours move on.
The sun, the Golden Bird
Shoots its rays
Only to transform gloom into glaze!
Indifferent to its own fate,as the dove is
That glory bows in the midst o' bliss.
Mother Nature reforms, to mitigate its forces
To deprive the world o' its preposterous calamities
Of its repressive sources
From spring to autumn, does winter spread its shadows
And thus the flamboyant horizon narrows.
My passionate soul, determined as it is,
Smoulders at its mission, just to catch a glimpse o' this bliss!!