“Of Tintern Abbey I Thought,” Elhabib Louai

by MP

Alone as I were deep in thoughts as dreams
The sweet fresh breeze caressed my face
Swiftly hugged my wide uncovered chest
While I walked down that half-empty street
With an old inherited suitcase of books full
And I wondered how faraway I wandered

On Tintern Abbey I smilingly pondered
Is it as cloudy here as it was thither?
When Wordsworth met his dear sister
I let the thought fly leisurely by, and by
In bubbles back to the pure calm Wye
Taken unnoticed by a caressing breeze

I raised my eyes up to the sky letting them
Embrace the free voyaging grey clouds
Clouds pregnant with seeds of pure water
A curing balsam to the aching mother earth
I let them, my eyes, journey to the mountains
My dim eyes, I let them survey as a soft wing

Suddenly a cold rain drop kissed me and I
Sighed with joy, wishing it was you, if only
It was you, you, the dear Moorish Penelope
Who is somewhere not here, but within me
Inside me, by me, haunting my fragile ribs
Still, it is still here as in old Andalucía days

I wanted anew to be a forsaken shepherd
But I may not find any soul in wait for me
Since I came to lose all those dear ones
Let me drift alone aimlessly to a wide sea
That receives me with a motherly bosom
Once I am lost, hurt, or simply deserted

There alone happy I’ll sit as a shepherd
On the empty banks of a secluded sea
Watching my goats grazing near the sea
I’ll journey through piquant melodies of
Such sweet lasting music composed by
Rimbaud, Verlaine or the warm Lamartine

Shall I call once again as a hermit?
Come all of ye, all of ye, those afar,
Near, asleep, awake or in between,
To join another lonely forsaken soul
By a lake or seashore so welcoming
It will include you in its virgin eternity

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