Friday, June 1, 2012

Black cypress

Today I only know
That I have failed to write my name
on the bark of the black cypress,
in the graveyard with the fallen leaves,
Nor did I eat the fruit
Of sweetest life endeavours.

Many a time a spark of genius
Has crossed the sky and died away
In a walk between my fingers.
All I had to do was lift my hands
And plunge my face into the vault of heaven.

Is this what I was told the day
When I ate my piece of knowledge?
Has anybody, ever, listened
To the song of the fallen goldfinch?
I know some day his singing will stop
But he’ll live in the moss and the bossoms,
Like me in the black cypress
Fed of a million tears of joy.


  1. My God, mister Ridao:
    The cypress are the three what I more like!
    More times what you not reading in your english's blog.
    Eyes!! I nont utilised never the traslation!!!
    Congratulations, Joseph-Michael!

  2. A lot of time, Dyhego. Thanks! I´m impressed with your English. Eyes to the date!: In a couple of months, you'll start reading Shakespeare in latvian.

  3. Mister Ridao:
    I make the efforts but the english is very much complicated for me. An day I will take class.
    Latvian ir langage stupid, I like spoken and writen and reading germanian!

  4. Germanian is the language of the future, don´t doubt it. I give you six months to master it before we all start speaking like Merkel and friends...