Vitruvius
Poeta recién llegado
Take me back, to the point of stagnant time
Back to the musky corners of the night
Back to the moon and its shimmering light
Back to the center of your grace sublime.
Back to the moment when the gap was bridged,
Back when your ankle consented my hand,
Back when we laid on the ivory sand,
Back when we leaned on the slope of the ridge.
I did not know then-- I could not have known
(the beacon was lit, the wind had not blown)
That Beauty had struck-- How dear the cost.
I look at myself, the scorched earth of Troy,
And I cannot find that glimmer of joy
That ever was mine, and ever is lost.
Back to the musky corners of the night
Back to the moon and its shimmering light
Back to the center of your grace sublime.
Back to the moment when the gap was bridged,
Back when your ankle consented my hand,
Back when we laid on the ivory sand,
Back when we leaned on the slope of the ridge.
I did not know then-- I could not have known
(the beacon was lit, the wind had not blown)
That Beauty had struck-- How dear the cost.
I look at myself, the scorched earth of Troy,
And I cannot find that glimmer of joy
That ever was mine, and ever is lost.
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