Epistle

Summer, sun, and cars… Brown long hair, So tall! —You saw my soul! I met my heart… I followed you, in hope That I may see you again: And I have seen you—every day, Waiting to greet me: ‘Good morning, Mihaela! ' Alone—away from the crowd: I did not realise, You have been waiting for me, Each single day, to greet me! And then, they saw you Waiting for me… ‘Conservatory and Poetry! ' I still hold your letter in my hands, And I treasure, Your calligraphy of heart: ‘La Vita Nuova by Dante Alighieri Such sweet decorum and such gentle grace Attend my lady's greeting as she moves That lips can only tremble into silence, And eyes dare not attempt to gaze at her. Moving, benignly clothed in humility, Untouched by all the praise along her way, She seems to be a creature come from Heaven To each, to manifest a miracle. Miraculously gracious to behold, Her sweetness reaches, through the eyes, the heart (who has not felt this cannot understand) , And from her lips it seems there moves a gracious Spirit, so deeply loving that it glides Into the souls of men, whispering: "Sigh! "' —How courageous to read it aloud! Surrounded by sharks, ready to devour With jealousy, —the secret of your heart! I knew! —I knew then: It was all for me! But the curious eyes, I acknowledged later… O! The inflection of your voice, Reciting in Italian with your British accent, Astonished every one! — They had no idea of the intricate, Woven words of your heart! But, I did! —I still do! ‘Beatrice'… When I open the drawer of souvenirs, I can feel your trembling pen in your hand, Written in the rhythm of your heart: Each rounded letter, each abrupt divagation From lines—it is there! —the heartbeat of your heart! Then…we spoke no more… But, the musical notes, Perhaps, are still there, Engraved onto that wooden-table… Almost imperceptible, For your rival has replaced them With rock-and-roll! Your hand swaying in the air… …With him…telling you ‘good-bye' And eager to take your place in my heart! I cried…I cried…and I drove… With the image of you, and the ‘Dove'… To never see you again! I do not think he could have deciphered The musical notes you engraved onto that table, But later…he engraved his soul, And rock-and-roll— And freed my soul!