You are not a drainage ditch of my unclean night-soil -
But you are gathering my favorite revelations.
Your ear will quietly take my poetical voice
And overturn inside sobering potions in vessels.
Only by now I perceived your undiverted mind
what you were thinking while talking about Spinoza
A subtle body is soul, not an outward man:
That is the way you pull out the splinter of sorrows.
How many mirrows your brain may reflect as a ball?
I hold you tight and do not let you out of my cuddle.
A hundred-headed and terrible fire is God
In every soul He is burning like Love - on a charcoal.
Who else could call me by deeper except your new voice?
I know that you are a gift. And it's totally priceless.
Who else could show a reflection of me like a ball?
Who could disclose my genius of multiple facets?
about Spinoza
© Copyright: Елизавета Судьина, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117122901787
Свидетельство о публикации №117122901787
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