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Monday, September 03, 2007

Angel of Darkness (in the circus of light)





woe cried the muse,
my tears started at the sound,
woe cried the muse,
grief perched upon my brow
and thought embraced her

what does this mean, I cried
what does this mean, I cried

woe cried the muse,
when summer spread her plumes,
woe cried the muse,
she turned her notes around me,
joy fanned its wings
and golden pleasures beamed
about my head

what does this mean, I cried
what does this mean, I cried

til mute attention struck my ear,
it spoke as if to bid farewell,
the winds their sad complainings bore
and love, in infant bud,
vanished

is this the heart of hearts
all disappeared?

woe cried the muse,
then struck her deepest string,
woe cried the muse,
with sympathy up my nerves,
trembling,
every face of doubt burst out
to sing
round the darkening sky

what does this mean, I cried
what does this mean, I cried

woe cried the muse,
then a rude thunder closed my eyes,
woe cried the muse,
laid the lilied beauties at my green,
the dance was broke,
a flower plucked, but not far blown

what does this mean, I cried
what does this mean, I cried

til mute attention struck my ear,
it spoke as if to bid farewell,
the winds their sad complainings bore
and love in infant bud, vanished

is this the heart of hearts
all disappeared?

ever from my sight
an angel of darkness
in the circus of light

8 comments:

Plato's Cave said...

is this written by u? how to write a poem? so nice!!!!

Aaron Zhao (EG1471) said...

Where can I hear the song?

Brad Blackstone said...

To hear the song, go to the link on the side bar that mentions my wife singing these lyrics.

YEN said...

This poem reminds me of the songs by Trinh Cong Son-a vietnamese artist who has spent all of his lifetime to feel and taste the pains to find out the love and hope for life.^-^

Brad Blackstone said...

Thank you for your comment, Yen. Actually, the lyrics for this song are very much reflective of the sense that you mention, the sense of wonder one might have about the creative "muse" (muse here meaning the internal voice that each of us hears and that, if possible, we respond to with moemnts of contemplation and/or acts of creation).

The lyrics echo loosely a poem by the 18th century English poet William Blake.

yen said...

hic,I hope that after this course,my english is good enough to translate the Trinh Cong son's feelings which are so miraculus that althuogh I can feel the drops of woe and sadness falling dowm in my heart,I still find out the hope beyond the pain,the strength to live every moments of my life,both happiness and woe.

attaboy said...

It is easy to understand the apparent meaning of the scentances in the poem. But it is too hard to understand the feeling in your heart. That is the poem! I will never be able to write such beautil poem. So sad about it. However, I do love it.

Mayda said...

Well written article.