Your soul is a landscape rare Where masks and bergamasks charming pass, Playing the lute and dancing, and almost Sad beneath their fancy dress. And while they sing on a minor note Of conquering love and a favorable life, They seem not to believe their happy lot, And their song mingles with the soft moonlight. With the calm moonlight, beautiful and sad, That brings dreams to the birds in the trees And sobs of ecstasy to the fountains, To the tall fountains, slender among the statuary. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE WOMAN'S GENITALS by HAYDEN CARRUTH MY DEATH AS A GIRL I KNEW by JAMES GALVIN BEARING LEAVES AGAIN by DAVID IGNATOW ECSTASY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON MY BOY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SEPARATION by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |