Solitude

The canvas of my life was white,

No colours and no radiant light.

And so I painted my white skies

With hopelessness and wrenching cries.

 

Since Childhood I have not been,

As others were in those springs.

My grief and joy all are in the same tone,

And every one I loved, I loved 'em alone.

 

And then, a beautiful solitude as a sun at dawn arose,

Like a gust of winds on my face did blow.

O, beautiful solitude, you fly like a dove over the sea,

And like a ship on the blue film of sunset's sea.

 

And I flew among the rest of the heaven

Painted in blue I flew as high as a raven.