Ode to Centuries

49

Sleep thou in the bosom
Of thy tender comrades
And if the world
Did not give you a true friend

Sleep in the divine-open
Where the stars speak with you
While the living water
Knows your name

And the moonlight glimmer
Satisfied the dreaming in you
Sleep thou in the bosom
Of the whispers of mortals
For a day will come
When you will be immortal.

5 thoughts on “Ode to Centuries

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