Silent was my Muse, silent was my feeling, emotion and spirit

Till my heart was struck open by your love

Now I’ve woke up from my inborn sleep

And now I can see and feel

But it is too late—

Thy love has bestowed flesh upon my bones

Strength to stand up on my feet and vigour to live

Now my silent Muse can sing, 

Can utter words and compile verses

What is Apollo in the contest with my Muse?

If my new-born Muse winks at- 

It would fly away in dread.

My Muse makes me play with darkness 

That reigned my realm so long

And has enlightened my dark cells with the atoms of utterance. 0 0 0

(This poem ‘Lovelia-52’ originally belongs to the poetry book entitled Lovelia, a sequence of love poems by Menonim Menonimus)


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Posted in Menonimus Poems.

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