Poem, talks about what the man sees when he stares out the window.
|Light! Look out the window.
A peculiar bright; transparent cannot be.
Captivating sun-light I descry.
Dull shadows; oath of woman-kind.
I, witness the presence of a blistering nobleness filling the crystal sky.
A luminous colossal, with sizzling strands of flaming light.
Prevents, protects; arrests penetration.
For the conceiving of such blistering day.
Hampering you against the delusion of May.
I look out the window,
Above with the sky.
Constant red-animals flying through the air,
Is it imagination, fantasy or death?
Aging prolonged my time.
An enthralling lady then comes by
Looking at me with an insatiable song.
“Sorrow for another’s good”:
Lacking of kindness, lacking of soul.
Then the man comes, sinning of excess.
Seeking for an inordinate desire; a constant pursuit of glory and despair.
Disloyalty and betrayal he keeps on his back.
A theft and robbery; powerfully controlling a knife.
Lacking of charity, lacking of God, walks out the window, walks through the world.
A black cow then stares on a lush prairie
Glancing me fixed; penetrative.
A savage animal reigns with much pride.
Letting me not move, neither talk nor laugh;
Even though signs implore me to cry all along.
I stare out the window beholding the Suffering Rose.
A red-rose bush along the grave of your voice.
Each one containing innumerable thorns, which
Create emotion along the watery helpless eyes;
Among the crying of a forsaken price.
I now seek out the window
For any presence of love.
Not for vanity, not for pride.
Passions of such daily lifetime.
The window, my appalling fence.
The window, my alarming nerve.
Above, everything turns dark, pale gray.
And slowly a range of crimson red
Sleeps motionless along the bay.
Luminous not any more.
Minds now imploring the ceasing of day.
I, now trying to force motion.
I keep staring out the window:
Light! No…, bleary drops of rain.
The moon its outside,
Governing the once clear blue sky.
I feel trapped, just at nights.
Fearing to dream among beams of moon-light.
I travel trough the window with awe for a sin.
Is this my desired reality, pleasure and love?
A simple night-dream controls my soul.
Suddenly, the humble clock is forced to move.
Unwittingly all obscure, somber, now gone.
I lean out the window
Waiting for you,
Your promise. I, now seeking for an alluring view.
But still feeling trapped, subdued into a benevolent field.
Light! Look out the window.
Deserve to be sinful of soul.
A new day has come…
The window never mists,
But you do, like the decrepit rose, like the fjords once flowing, not any more.
Like time, like death,
Like the passing of life looking out your grave.