The Genuine Poet
Poet,– you are not understood by people.
Your eyes do not shine lightheartedly.
Your eyes are raised to the heavens:
Turquoise Eternity is with you.
Unlike the counterfeits, you are despised.
The truth enrages, and is often disguised.
Their eyes do not shine, dimmed by life.
Their eyes are downcast, watching only feet:
Turquoise Eternity escapes them.
With you, above you eternity
caresses, kisses soundlessly.
Washed with azure, the spring
gloriously rings in your ears.
She caresses and kisses soundlessly.
Although these same people surround you,
you– are eternal, free, full of power.
O, laugh and cry: into the turquoise,
like a pearl, like the scattered clouds.
The sunset has burned the ground bare
there the heart does not need fire:
There like a frosted narrow windowpane
is stretched a string of pearls that trace all truth.
F. Henderson
