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Sky, air and winds, plains and open hills,
Vineyards and green forests, Wrought
shores and undulating springs, Shaved
coppices and you green groves,
Foamed half-fronted open coves,
Meadows, buds, flowers and rusty grasses, Hilly
valleys and blond beaches,
And you rocks, the hosts of my verses,
Because when I left, gnawed at care and wrath,
To that beautiful Goodbye eye I could not say,
Who near and far holds me in emotion,
I beg you, Heaven, air, winds, mountains and plains,
Coppice, forests, shores and fountains,
Antres, meadows, flowers, say it to him for me.
Pierre de Ronsard, First Book of Love
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ABSENCE
You're no longer here, my heart
You're no longer giving me happiness
My poor heart cries
He's so sick
I can't take him for a walk
Everything's a charade
Now you promised
me nothing would be finished
We don't even have a nest anymore!
Yet my arms are stretched
out And I can't hear anymore
Don't you hear my heart
crying that cries with pain
That has no happiness
If you don't love me anymore
I love you even more,
even more
___________________
Aimeline Kutty, Poetry
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