Status Updates From Tristia et autres poèmes

And here stands the silent
Muted and orphaned height
Like a tower white and empty
In foggy and quiet night.
Morning abysmally tender
Semi-awake, semi-dream,
Foggy ringing of thoughts,
Oblivion like a scream.

White light falls in cold measure
In damp forest on summer day
In my heart I am slowly carrying
Sadness, like bird colored gray.
What to do with a bird that is wounded?
She went silent, then died as well.
From a fogged-over belltower
Someone has stolen the bell.

Be foam, O Venus, stay as mists, And words to music do return And heart, at heart's own shame do burn, Fused with the core of what exists!

Silentium
She has not taken her first sigh She is the word and music both And thus of all that lives and grows A timeless and unbroken tie.
Placidly breathe the breasts of sea The day is bright, as if gone mad, The sea foam's pallid lilacs stand In vase of lapis lazuli.
O, would my lips accept the lure Of muteness prime, now so remote, Reminding of a crystal notes That are innately truly pure.