THE CASTLE
THE CASTLE
By bank, stream or river I rove,
With wine in hand upon the
fields,
I, drunk with a garden, the fragrances
it yields,
Still sing of eternal, infinite love.
There is in my jacket a small,
blue book
Of lines which I wrought
romantically.
Thou art paradise, my lady, with
your dark, sable look.
Your gaze is of stars, and of
true poetry.
I have searched for you
incessantly,
In meadows, through woods, in canyons,
in caves,
Over harbors and seas, over
sailors’ graves,
Until I found you on the
balcony.
High up, on the terrace of the
castle’s tower,
I found you in your long, white
dress,
Awaiting my rhyme and the love I
profess,
In the still of this majestic
hour.
~ John Lars Zwerenz
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