In such beauty as only the dawn will show

Rhyming its joyous ecstasies

As She streaks Her loveliness across the sky

Pink and red as if they sing,

Thus all jumps beyond the real,

The normal fact and the sleeping feel,

In hoping dream and virulence,

In intensity of blind hopelessness

Driven to craziness by lightness of sun,

Floating as the boat of her sweet brown eyes,

Of her black-jet hair, her wild glance,

This girl who makes you love her so.


Her joyous lips of kissingness

Drip like juices of pilgrimage,

She is your dream, ever returning,

Softly swooping like a jaguar,

Pelting her god-knows-blood upon you,

Do you ever awake from this dream?


Her gorgeous lips they touch your heart,

Her face flashes in wild danger,

She makes the dawn with her luscious smile,

She must have made that moon before,

That cloudy night-sky with the wandering moon

That set all the universe upside down.


Who was she, ever upon the dawn,

The maker of colours in wild sunrise,

Did you ever awake from this dream for long?

Was anything strong enough to destroy its fire?

Deliver yourself of all delusions,

Roam as a mendicant into the sun.


Tim Cloudsley nació Cambridge, Inglaterra. Es sociologo, escritor y poeta. Trabajó como profesor en la Escuela de Idiomas, de la Universidad Industrial de Santander, Bucaramanga en el ámbito de estudios culturales y literatura.

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