I am two fools

I am two fools, I know
One for loving the other for saying so
But where that wise man that I would not be
Deny, ignore, bury, build a wall, trench a moat and be like he
Then as the earth inward narrow crooked lanes
Do purge sea waters fretful salt away
I thought, if I could draw my pains
Through rimes of vexation I should them allay
Grief of love when brought to words cannot be so fierce
For he tames it whoever fetters it in verse

When I am dead and doctors know not why
State official authority their curiosity obey
Having me cut up to survey each part
When they shall find up your picture in my heart
A surge, a wave of love
Through their senses move
It will work on them as on me
So is the power of the picture of thee

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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Traveling through the orbits of love

Traveling through the orbits of love
You always followed me
Hiding yourself behind hideous secrets
The tedious question I always asked
At mid way meeting as train pulled in
Who is the one you love?
With whom your soul yearn to be
Are you ready to accept me hence?
From all my mad habits I recovered
It took me a long pause to ask
It last more for you to answer
The train pulled out
The earth beneath me trembled
My world darkened on me
So strange you did not stay
So inhabitant is the station without you

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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Unveiling lines without a rose

The white moon gleams in the wood
From every bough there comes a voice
Beneath the bower with a meaning of one choice
The pond reflects a shimmering mirror of a hood

As dawn breaks the silhouette of thoughts
Projected by the dim willow shade
Where winds lament what dreams us taught
We crave these dreams to last and not to be dread

Yet I aught to content with the thought….
If a woman ever loved
In faithful truth
As you by me
If a love faith ever found
So true in faith
As mine in you

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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Shall I Make Peace

Shall I make peace and shall I accept this eternal enemy death
This unseen unfelt subtle that suffocates us out of last breath
And why shall I call it foe? Is it not our safest end of all our woe
We sinners the undeserved wretched do try to avoid it so

Does it not being a gentle drier of all love afflicted tears,
Is it not which nobly ends many times the cowards fears;
Does it not has this sweet repose to lovers sad despair,
Is it not the calm of human ambitions and rough over stretched care

Does it not move the seasons around to turn in different hues
Does it not make all things bloom, grow and replaced anew
If in regard of bliss and fortune he is but damned curse,
Yet the joys of Paradise were to Adam and Eve worse;

Since Adam had failed to sustain Paradise and from grace fell,
And God from Eden Adam and us the decedents did expel,
Death is no more an evil we so fear, but a relief;
The balm and cure to every Humane harm, sin or grief:

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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The sea by night

The sea at night is not calm,
The scudding foaming waves sound the alarm
The savage winds abrasive, feverishly court the waves
Rejected, they continue upon the surf into the rocky caves

The night-high tide solemn, rakes upon the stony shore;
Along the rugged cliffs and chalky ivory caves
Mourns the hoarse ocean, suffocating seeming to deplore
All that are buried in his restless agitated craves

Into the mined by corrosive tides, of the hollow rock
The waves rushed climbing, rushing to its turf height,
Falling back to relentless shakes with long-resounding shock,
Loud dire thundering on the ear of sullen dreadful night;

Again and again in relentless endless train of unearthly attire
Like long swaying tongues of consuming fire
The waves bounce hitting the fall prone rock
There once upon its peak thrived a nest of a family duck

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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A silhouette of childhood

Flow down, cold distilled rivulets never make it to the sea,
Your tribute waves into my childhood memories deliver:
Yet, no more by thee my old forgotten steps shall be,
For ever, and never again for ever.

Flow, softly flow by newly built houses; among reeds; by little lawn or lea,
A host of joyful rivulets never to join and to bond into a river;
Time has taken my steps away, not at your banks to be,
For ever and never again for ever.

But here still will smile your century old fig tree,
With a huge trunk and sturdy blistered boughs the wind will never shiver
A gang of cheerful kids with mouthful of figs sweet like honey bee
For ever in my silhouette memories; again and again for ever.

Here in my childhood scenes and voices I shall ever be
Under thousands of suns stream and moons sheen, figures dance and quiver
Even though not by these scenes my steps shall ever be,
For ever and for ever

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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And Thus Love

And thus love, your supreme beauty enlighten bright
Over my worn, tattered soul forever gleaming
Like some far star flickering its fire into the night
Along the strikes of desert echoing dunes deep streaming

And I never loved you for your comely grace
Nor for your keen pleasing eyes or your lovely face
Yet any outer features of your rare part
Convey the inner depths of soul and consent heart

I have never loved you for your outer
Since it be foul with years and turn and alter
Your mute symbols of love like a joyful morn
A prelude to your mischievous tricks yet unborn
The joy you have brought to every wandering breeze
In meadows on wall rocks and on the trees

And what enriching beautiful thing is to glance
Back on bloom of love and sweet years
What blur forms of happy hours advance

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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My Home Town

The last time I saw my home town, her trees were dressed for spring,
And her people walked beneath those trees and birds found songs to sing.
The last time I saw my home town, her heart was warm and gay,
No matter how cruelly they change her, I'll remember her that way.

I dodged and hided in the fields of golden corn that I had dodged for years.
The chorus of the wind blowing the heavy loaded stems was music to my ears
I thought of happy hours and pure childhood lost, and laborious people who toiled their day
Old women, selling flowers, in markets at dawn, kids rushing to their play

Lonely I was, scanning with lonely eyes, seeking her in vain
Her streets are where they were, but there's no sign of her; the pain is insane
Where are the children who ran in the park and in sun sandy paths
And those who danced under summer night looked at the stars and laugh

I used to watch as a child the fair morning fog clearly chiming in its flowing before my eye;
Warmly and broadly the south winds were winding and blowing over the sky.
One after another the white clouds over the fields of wild tulips were fleeting;
Every heart that gorgeous May morning in joyance was brimming and beating

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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It is that you have fled from me

It is that you have fled from me that makes me seek
With barefoot stalking your ghost image in my chamber
Where once I have seen you gentle, tame, naked and meek
That now you are free and wild and do not remember
That since you have left me you put yourself in great danger
You the one that took bread at my hand, now you range
Busily seeking other love with continual change

True I shall thank my fortune for crossing with your life; otherwise
What joy or happiness could have been so special
In thin array after a pleasant guise
When your loose gown from your shoulders fell
Exposing the silhouette of lovely breast too intoxicating to tell
And then you caught me in your ivory arms long and small
There withal sweetly as ever sweet you did my lips kiss
And softly and lowly whispered “Dear heart how you like this? ”

Was I delirious? No it was not a dream I lay broad waking
But now all is turned through my gentleness
Into a strange fashion of forgivable forsaking

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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The well of love

I think in these quiet moments of the night
That love and despise are two feelings of close side
Although we prefer one and shun the other
Nevertheless we do confuse between one another
 
Like two branches emerging from the same trunk
Of tree, nourished by roots of the same rank
Yet they are so different upon our mood.
Love turns its head towards the EAST
The dawn of day, the sun of new hopes
Despise turns its head towards the west
The end of the day, the dusk before the dark
The pause, the end, the death
The cease, the change.......
 
There is a change, and I am left poor
The love that had been, nor long ago
A fountain at my heart's door
Whose only tread was to flow
And flow it did; not taking heed

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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