17 Oct 1991
In Pathos center there is a square,
Within it stands statue fair;
Marble pure unblemished white
Ambrosia to tongue is it to sight,
On high pedestal this marvel stands,
All eyes of Pathos it commands.
Oft’ at this statue would i gape,
At silken tunic and velvet cape;
Cherubic face and gentle cheeks,
A greater Venus you would not seek;
Yet as it stands on such a height,
Few such details reach our sights.
So on a moonlit evening – in the the square I creeped,
And with no one looking – I scaled the lofty steep.
At eye to eye and face to face,
My heart quivered in a frenzied pace.
Deeper beauty than eyes cans see,
With the heart must this vision be.
So closer now to mine own eyes,
I see the sorrow of her cries.
These tears that flow with no recourse,
What pool within these rivers’ source;
In waters deep and murky swells,
Drown mordant screams f anguished hell.
What pain could be so bitter,
To sting a soul so dear;
What could be so burning,
To such a young heart sear.
Fair O could this wound not be,
So deep impaled within her heart;
Mistaken was the archer’s aim,
When he fired this poisoned dart.
But she is rock and I am flesh,
Never were our loves to mesh.
And as I thought such, I began to weep,
All the while driving off to sleep;
As I slept the pallor left,
And so was she her grieves bereft.
Tresses from white to earthen tone,
Ice blue diamonds her sockets shown;
Stone now flesh – no longer ashen,
Life surged within – so great with passion.
And down she stepped and sat to rest,
Cradling me in her sweet breast.
My pain so callow in her embrace,
Tears so cold drip down my face;
Dries them with her locks of hair,
Comforts me with tender care.
And so I slept in tranquil peace,
While I dreamt my love released.
I woke from slumber at her feet,
And in her face my eyes did meet;
Those same carven tears of stone,
That to my heart had sorrow shown.
Then I struggled close to peer,
And spied a wetness in her tears;
Trickled from her sculptured eye,
A tear that was from human cry.