The winds of the unconscious
The melancholy landscape of our love
is harrowed by unfriendly winds
that blow the beauty of our dreams to tatters,
but, on the other hand, these hard and cruel winds
just by their hardness blow our love across the world
like windhorses that never tire.
That's our glory: we give never up, we never tire,
we just keep loving through our work of beauty
to renew the world and cleanse it from its foulness
like the prophets of eternity that might be our unknown mission,
subconsciously but all the more importantly and powerfully.
That's our only job: to keep the course of truth to our vocation,
which is only to create through love a lasting world of beauty.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2006-10-18 at 13:10
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