The soul and the core of every language
The soul and the core of every language
lie in the lines and rhymes of its poetry
As the divine poets spirit should
Guide us to built our emerging human hood
With universal sublime inner soul nurturing food
Drawn and scale in select proportion fair
From honest mold and vagabond air
From that foul awful dreadful night
Into joyful rebirth bright day light
From antique ashes, whose departed flame
In us a finer life and a longer instated fame
From injuries and wounds; pains and balms
From the quiet after storm that calms
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poem by Isaac Ziv
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He who would never his name write
He who would never his name write
On this bouquet of flowers
Yet your face in his heart inscribed
Your exquisite stature in his eyes a tower
He who one day you will forgive yourself to forget
His memory from mind and heart you will let
And he will be far away
Like the sun at the end of the day
He who will sink into a minuscule oblivion
Never to appear in mind or in opinion
He who will cease to be
In the dearest heart of thee
And those who would walk behind his coffin
Will never tell the roads of love
His heart and soul toiled and trod
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poem by Isaac Ziv
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How about dawn?
How about dawn?
Do you like dawn descending on Blue Mountains tops?
Or may be a background with another hue
will better fit your view?
Then let us pretend there will be no dawn
No morning no new days
we all in a glorious kingdom of the moon
Where silence and dark mingle so beautifully
The bewitched gloom of the night
be our friends
Where two beings would walk wordless, speechless
with green tuft on their both sides
with the grass blades gilded in the moon sheen
No word exchange between them
without a word they know how much they love each another
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poem by Isaac Ziv
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I passed by the place where you abode
I passed by the place where you abode
Where lofty trees and ivy-beds grow a lot
I left some flowers by the door
And I carved some verses on the wall
The sweet flowers field I plucked and banded
Will wilt and fade away unwedded
It shall not give birth to an heir
Which bears forth its reflection and glare
These lovely cups are doomed to die
While with riotous colors your door sill dye
Their beauty to captive your love serves
As my royal on their mission stand brave
Their soft silken balmy lap is a sacrifice
To entrap a higher beauty and my anguish to pacify
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poem by Isaac Ziv
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Blue night
Blue dark dusk a prelude to a moon struck night
Once more as long time before
You appeared in front of my door
Blue dark dashing night
At the edge of a city sleeping tide
Once more before the ore
Twinkling shades play behind closed door
Oh come back and take hold of me
A sensation that I long and love from thee
Oh come back in sinew and flesh so long forsaken
When body’s memory revived rekindled awakened
And old longing again moves into the blood
When lips and skin stir and remember
And hands feel as if though they touch again
And all comes back alive vivid and so plain
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poem by Isaac Ziv
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Night of dew and tangle
I recall a night of dew and tangle
As the dew fell on the cobweb from a wind at angle
To leave it threaded with stars
A night of scattering jewels on fences and pastures bars
As proud dawn rose against dry grass bright
Yet to come under human sight
And tangled boughs and weaved weeds
Bearing a rainbow gem on each of their seeds
Come again you blue dust of evening over slumbering city,
Over this ocean of roofs, walls, streets and tall towers
Where the window-lights innumerable claim skies without pity
And bloom from the walls like climbing flowers.
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poem by Isaac Ziv
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Oh ever present to my view
Oh ever present to my view
my warring, wafted spirit is with you
and soothes your budding fears
Which other conceive as gestures of leers
I see you all oppressed with perplex gloom
Wrap in dark shades of hollow room
Oh me see you all in sighs
The invisible trace of tears upon your check dry
Sometimes you are like a deep blue lake
I throw stones to its bottom with no response and no wake
other times I can not tell
the lake is full or it is but a phantom, a fairy tale
yet by its bank I still stand and my head shock
watching a jealous Narcissus craving its image in the watery nook
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poem by Isaac Ziv
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The willow
How beautiful is the willow in April gown
Delicate and gleaming under the sun
Never minding the seasons and years gone
It stands, long flowery drippings and soft wind sigh
Spring does not call me as it use to
With sprouts in vast meadows and balmy flowers of variety hues
No more shall I renew myself with the world every spring
With heavy leafy boughs crowded with birds in sing
Willow, Willow sway, twinkle, lull in the sun
Your leaves, same leaves of my past days gone
Welcome me as the spring use to in wild laugh and fun
Oh let me answer the spring again for my days are still undone
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poem by Isaac Ziv
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My heart is heavy with fruits of love
My heart is heavy with fruits of love
Like clusters of ripe pomegranate fruit bearing down
The canopy branches of the tree
But I can never give you one from above
It is waxed and sweetened by the full sun as jewels crown
The fruits of my love do not belong to me; they are not free
Yet in the evening, at dusk twilight, I dare entreat you to hide low
When bats chase moths encircling wandering in lights glow
Under the crimson dusk skies’ pall
A fruit from the tree may slip and fall
And when in the gray hour it drops as lust’s prey
Would you take it? Hence no one will ever know or say
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poem by Isaac Ziv
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Tonight all windows are opened wide
Tonight all windows are opened wide
Tonight all hearts blasted in pain converge to heal
Tonight all gentle soft words pay to mend and to appeal
Between us they flow said undisturbed by vain pride
Time has traveled us so far
Broken heart shall we let it journey us forth more
To the end of our painful path; till the last dropp of love’s soar
Where finally we may find the virtue between us, the goodness of our stars
Someone is weeping on a pillow dry
Someone is gasping at the door knob asking why
Let all soft gentle words flow between two of us
And heal and cure all pains to the very last.
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poem by Isaac Ziv
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