“A Duet with Xue Tao”

A Duet with Xue Tao

Xue Tao:

My soul, conforming to this crescent,
dwindles
and flying, now chases a gathering of skies.
Its fine light form, against the darkness, fills
again
and, from all this world of men, its circle can
be seen.

[Xue Tao, “Moon” in The Brocade River Collection]

hülya n. yılmaz:

a gentle wind
lowers itself onto the arid leaf
thirsty for the attar of a new breath
awaiting in patience the first drop
underneath layers of the frozen white

it whispers promises anew
unlocks the box after Pandora leaves

she has been tricked . . .

no ill seeps through this time
the bolt’s ice will not be melting yet
in joyous dance unite hope and smiles
dreams and love recover again

Goethe calls out as if for me:

“Muses, help me with art,
To suffer joy’s pain!”

Ludwig Uhland’s painless joy
cuddles me with a kissing breeze:

“Oh fresh scent, oh new sound!
Now, poor heart, fear not!
Now everything, everything must change.”

[hülya n. yılmaz, “a gentle wind” in Aflame, Memoirs in Verse]

 

(c) hülya n. yılmaz (October 19, 2019)

This post displays one of my three poems that have been included in the November 2019 issue of The Year of the Poet, published by Inner Child Press International.

6 Comments

Filed under Poetry, Reflections

6 responses to ““A Duet with Xue Tao”

  1. To arise anew diplicting rebirth or regeneration. Seeking out any semblance of purity the necter that heals and enhances much needed vitality.

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