I entrust my dreams to the sacred mountains.
Waiting to the beautiful lady to come
and collect them ...
The snow will cover me with a soft shroud
like a widow's dress...
And in the dead man's room ,
performed, will be the wedding sacrifice...
The silent witnesses,passing by ,
contemplating the frozen breath
of my last prayer ...
From your dark bowels
I would be reborn to the quietness
of my green valleys ...
The melancholic horn
gathering the herd ...
Returning from our hard work,
mother will serve us creamy soup .
And father will rejoice ! Saying :
'' The harvest looks promising ! ''
Father isn't talkative ...
Countryman of few words .
He's just a conqueror of the everyday life...
I aspire to the eights
that guards the bodies .
Only the earth does not lie
but it is not my story ...
You, summits only loving iced virgins
and chanting Buddha's mantras
who places impermanence upon
the wounds of the soul ...
Even reduced to the state of a statue,
spectral shape,confused with the rock ,
Nanga Parbat you will not be
master of my madness !
You who break the course of the clouds,
I will engrave my rebellion
into the last few meters of your flesh !
Message that destiny will read
with a lethal smile .
Mountain take me !
I know that desiring you is a sacrilege !
I will enjoyed your disembodied charms ,
your unfathomable chasm ...
And the crowd will not greet me .
calling me a stroller ...
'' You think you've won !
But you have only raised your pettiness
with some impertinence !
And once again the plains beckons you...''
-
Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 18th, 2025 10:47
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments4
the mountain surveys its children, great write yet again
They are not always kind to conquerors ...
so true
Well woven poem.
Tragic heroism !
" Father's just conqueror of everyday life " .
Sublime conquest of the useless !
Those who climb to the highest places must be prepared to dwell among the ghosts.
Mirror of human excess and transcendence !
A beautiful and it feels almost spiritual, or at least natural in the form of nature, type poem. It reads as a myth. Loved it a fave
The earth doesn't lie but man doesn't understand it !
Man never understands the earth's language.
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