By Yasen Vedrin
(The Vine of Engadi)
“Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold,
thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes...”
(Song of Solomon 1:15)
I would not find a color in the bow
To capture in a stroke your shining face.
Through your sweet eyes, where beautiful things grow,
The doves will make a white and boundless space.
The wondrous poetry will softly coo.
A heavenly ray upon your lids will bide.
And in your gaze a break will shine for you,
Prepared to gather all my calls inside.
And in the flash, when visible and clear
You capture me, a whisper I will trace:
Let there be doves, so innocent and dear,
And let me fly with them in happy grace.
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