HOW OFT MY TEARS COME RISING
How oft my tears come rising
from wells of inward hurrying sores
captivating my courage into nothing
taking all what my heart can afford.
I am not proud of those two eyes
which so much of misery can see
how much they ever sparkle in the skies
they know all hearts not yet been free.
It's true they have a Lover's power
to stay and burn in a brave mind
to enforce that desperate amour
in what devotion lies.
And in thy face ,that mask they know
of what you sometimes turn away
they find and sacrifice the deep below
where all secrets are trembling this day.
The eyes of deep colour in emerald-green
like a fountain are bubbling over
and with all their experience they will see
the tears of lessen immortality and moreover.
©kerstin centervall
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