POPPY FIELD

…this blaze, this beacon of blood and living flames that shines before us,
where did it come from, who brought it to us…?
kindling them, among borders and wheat fields, a wandering god shines and marches,
ah, do you not see him…?
he is as beautiful as a lark's song,
and as sweet and fertile as a blade of living grass;

…the heart follows him and follows him, and the soul, enraptured, catches him and burns within him;

come, come then, and gather me,
for I wander like wisps of grass along the paths and through the air, and, like a mortal light, I am scattered across the meadow;

…I, I, who fit and live in a humble reed or stalk of rye,
in a drop of rain,
in one, in a single drop of love,
in this one,
in this one alone.

***
Antonio Justel
https://antoniojustel.com
***