LOVE SEES NO GUILT, IN ALL BELIEVING

By Yasen Vedrin

(Mortal Remains)

Love sees no guilt, in all believing.

So innocent. Bright-trusting, whole.

Yet down below, instead of drinking

The sweetest nectar, grief fills its soul.

The hands prepared for warm embraces,

Are bitten by hyenas’ spite.

While audience turns back their faces,

And lock cold doors into the night.

The good man from naivety suffers,

By hypocrites tripped on his way.

Expecting love for what he offers —

With heaps of hate he’s paid today.

And somehow, with an ancient lesson,

He understands, as time goes by,

If faith is what he puts his stress on,

He must look closer with his eye…

For he would quickly gather many,

When stretching palms with gifts to share.

But then drinks wormwood, with no penny,

Wounded by blind thoughts everywhere.

Why, Love, are you so unprotected,

Like silk lace, fragile to the touch?

You give yourself to be perfected,

Before you have received so much…

And if a plea from you arises,

By muddy splashes it’s denied,

Even if with the shirt he prizes

The lover clothes the world outside…

You are a price, for which, in sorrow,

The saint pays for the Heavens high.

To be a pearl in swamp tomorrow,

Or a lone fig tree in fields nearby.

To be a bread, till last crumb eaten,

And wine, to very final drop.

Passing a test, severe and beaten,

Through Holy Heavenly sieve to stop.

And there, before the Lord’s own Altar,

Reflected in live words to weave…

Love sees no guilt, and will not falter.

So innocent. Bright-trusting, to believe.