Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
One Hundred and Fifty-Five Sonnets - 45. downy
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Sonnet No. 89
The white feather of imagination
Can be conjured as a symbol of faith –
From Seagull or Eros, its activation
Is meant to instruct like a spectral wraith.
But what happens when the down of an angel
Alights upon a human hand? – How soft
It speaks of the hardship, which Man befell,
That sent us to the Earth with our wings doffed.
Yet human angels live and breathe, I feel,
Ones divine with Love's great ability
To forgive – and in that thought – to heal
Mankind's innate strain of hostility.
My angel fell into my hands, it's true,
Your downy love gives faith in what I must do.
Sonnet No. 90[1]
Come to my awaiting embrace, I bid,
My boy, my fiery prince mythical –
With your smile both stern and whimsical,
That I find anything but timid.
And just like the shepherds of old we'll number
To smolder hot as Eros, the Blind Child,
Between the green hills and the forests wild,
Where we'll find our placid dreams aslumber.
Come to me dear boy with all your passion,
And take the strong hand that now I offer,
To forget all your pain and affliction,
Because without you, it's I who suffer.
Let the quality of our relation
Dear lovers in the future decipher.
[1] Translation of Il mio abbraccio ti aspetta, Sonetto N. 80 above.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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