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Author Topic: On a Bright Summerday  (Read 826 times)
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Artimidor Federkiel
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« on: 21 July 2002, 13:26:00 »

Here's the poem of Monsonius he wrote for Stela after her death (see entries), which I tried to finish asap so that Wren can perhaps sing it at the audio studio. I wrote it mainly, because Fiorellina's picture was perfect for it (the text on the pic will be removed, got permission from Firorellina). Unfortunately Judy isn't always around at the moment, and I'm sure she would have something to change/improve (I'm a german poet, not an English one, errr...). Anyway, here it is. Hope you enjoy though.

 
 On a Bright Summerday

On the mourn of a bright summerday
my dearest bird flew far far away,
on its voyage beyond the highest clouds
over mountain tops and oceans wide,
away from this world, a sea of shrouds,
just up, up it strived, to kiss the light.

What will you see my dear? Where will you land?
In paradise? On a Goddesses opened hand?
Will you sing then as you have never done?
You've always been so quiet, sad, so still,
drowned in slumber, no, wings you had none,
listening only to the comfort of my quill.

From my lips you were reading word by word,
thankfully, as if this voice you dearly heard
was just an echo, sprung from eternity.
Like a bird you seemed to be, but caught,
and behind the veil I saw you happy, free,
and that a dream you sought, along with me.

Take care of you, on your flight be strong,
just accept my company in deed and song
as I'm always with you, have no fear.
Though let the stars be now your guide,
greet them all, I can see them shining here
and I'll feel the winds upon you ride.

On the mourn of a bright summerday
my dearest bird flew far far away,
forgetting night and its restless sleep,
diving joyfully into dawning sky...
Leave now. It is our turn to stay and weep,
but you my dear, are destined to fly.



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Edited by: Artimidor Federkiel at: 7/20/02 8:27:42 pm
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Bard Judith
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« Reply #1 on: 21 July 2002, 19:57:00 »

Lovely, Art - particularly the last poignant line.  A few grammatical/spelling things,if that's ok?


On a Bright Summerday

On the MORN of a bright summerday
my dearest bird flew far far away,
on its voyage beyond the highest clouds
over mountain tops and oceans wide,
away from this world, a sea of shrouds,
just up, up it STROVE to kiss the light.

What will you see, my dear? Where will you land?
In paradise? On a GODDESS' opened hand?
Will you sing then as you have never done?
You've always been so quiet, sad, so still,
drowned in slumber, no, wings you had none,
listening only to the comfort of my quill.

From my lips you HAD READ word by word,
thankfully, as if this voice you dearly heard
was just an echo, sprung from eternity.
Like a bird you seemed to be, but caught,
and behind the veil I saw you happy, free,
and that a dream you sought, along with me.

Take care, MY BIRD, on your flight be strong,
just accept my company in deed and song
as I'm always with you; have no fear.
Though let the stars be now your guide,
greet them all, I can see them shining here
I'll feel the winds upon WHICH you ride.

On the MORN of a bright summerday
my dearest bird flew far far away,
forgetting night and its restless sleep,
diving joyfully into dawning sky...
Leave now. It is our turn to stay and weep,
but you, my dear, are destined to fly.


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Regards from the Bard


 “The three principal endeavors of a Bard are to learn and collect knowledge; to teach others; to make peace and put an end to all injury. To do contrary to these things is not usual or becoming to a Bard.”  
The Triads of Britain, medieval text

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Artimidor Federkiel
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« Reply #2 on: 22 July 2002, 00:20:00 »

Many thanx, Judy! Good to see everything corrected! I guess I can put up the poem then, along with the pic of Fiorellina:)  


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"Between the mind that plans and the hands that build there must be a mediator, and this must be the heart." -- Maria (Metropolis)
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