A question of beauty
When are you loveliest?
Is it in the golden summertime,
when everything is flourishing in sumptuousness
and greenth extols in health and wealth
to make the whole world sparkle in full glory?
Or is it in the fall of colourfulness,
when the harvests fill the needs of life
to make some room for afterthought and melancholy
turning life and beauty the more irresistible?
Or is it in the heavy trials of dark winter
when severity makes people cuddle up
and turn more closely to each other
in the absolute white purity,
which makes the winter beauty sovereign?
Or is it in the spring renaissance
when life wakes up from the dead
in more triumphant ecstasy than ever
in explosive dynamics of beauty
more surprising every year?
No, you are never loveliest
in any high season of beauty,
since you always are the loveliest
out of time, regardless of all seasons.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2010-01-08 at 12:42
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