Song Of The Blue Night Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
Song Of The Blue Night
Song
Of
The
Blue
Night
Reflected
In
The
Moving
Waters
The
Wise
Owl
Looked
On
And
Garbled
Wisdom
Philosophical
Remember, remember, my Monsignor.
We have cards
And where have
Not already up our sleeves
Then as the spider weaves her silk
And web produces
So we, my Monsignor our cards
Produce.
That is our survival, our mode of
It
And direct proportion to it.
Remember, remember, my Monsignor.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/16/2024 9:52:47 AM # 1.0.0.1119
You refer directly to GARBLED WISDOM and what follows is indeed garbled. There seems to be an emphasis on card-tricks being employed to outsmart fate (?) Are these the fortune-telling cards of TAROT or the gambling cards of the modern deck. - I like the title image. Calling the atmosphere of night BLUE instead of black, softens the image of night, makes it inviting, conveying a kind of spirituality.