O Rhyme! How I Express My Joy in Thee
O Rhyme! how I express my joy in thee;but sorrow drains the vigor that you give,
depriving me of your broad, open sea
of vivid imagery. I deceive
those who hear happiness leap from my page:
melancholy is the womb of all odes.
Notes of bliss take root in the soil of rage,
while life's anguish travels imperiled roads.
But I, both human and bard, now declare
that brave words cannot inspire without pain;
a diamond is forged by great pressure and care,
e'en as lines of hope redeem the poet's pain.
Hence, my rhymes are sung in sorrow and blood,
to build a heaven where only hell has stood.
Sonnet by Ngoc Nguyen
Written on 2025-08-25 at 04:25
Tags Bliss Melancholy Pain
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