The river
p. 69 · Read in the full issue
By Till PESETA
You take your time Leisurely, unhurriedly.
Leaves deprived of identity Await your pleasure, Flowing with your will.
So serene, so peaceful, The rocks whisper and you sigh, A soft languorous response.
You speak to me a language. / try to understand, Of beauty unattainable Pleasure for the soul Cry out!
Cry out for perfection.
Calmness as soft as the earth's breath Pursue me along the strength of your face You lie there listening, listening . . .
Loosen the sheet from your fingers, The river murmurs on . . .
Awakening at dawn, Listen . . . forever . . . my soul.