Rose cries when raindrops hammer
On its petals drumming ballads,
Wails the rose when mighty thunder
Splits the sky with lightning flashes.
Shakes the rose when winds of Autumn
Reap the leaves off fragile branches.
It was only days ago
That the Sun was fiercely blazing,
Now it hides behind the clouds,
Cares not that Death is looming
Over rose’s shriveled petals.
Rose needs the warmth of Summer,
Yearns for solar hot embraces.
You, by hearts of many worshipped,
Know what of pain and torment?
Who your thorns remind of anguish
Of unanswered love forgotten?
Who inhaled your balmy fragrance
Wafting through the rose garden,
Waking up in tight embrace
Of the love that never happened?
Cry my rose, the Sun is worth it
Even when it fails to warm you,
In the midst of Autumn’s ache.
But forget what Sun did promise
When it showered you with passion.
Failed to mention, time will come,
It will turn away as if it never
Caressed you.
It will calmly watch from heavens
How the ruthless wind attacks you,
Ripping off your festive garments
That for granted you have taken.
And your former dazzling beauty
Wind will carry ‘cross the garden,
Smear with dirt so people know:
Death has no favorites.
In the death all mortals equal:
Somewhere in the nooks of garden
Shriveled petals slowly wither.
No one will believe, just yesterday
They shone with beauty.
Seasons change, the snow is mortal
And, behold, another rose
Springs to life in all its glory
At the very spot where now
You are weeping, unconsoled.
No one will ever know
How you feared the oblivion,
How you loathed the very notion
Of the farewell to the Sun.
Ruthless wind has no mercy
When it’s ripping off your petals,
Spreads them wide, your pain dividing
For the Earth to suffer less.
Knows the wind without doubt:
Those petals were still breathing
And could last a little longer.
But the laws of fate are finite:
One that’s doomed must pass away.
Cry, my rose, while rain is falling.
It comes to help when once
All tears have been shed.
One of my favorite stanzas is this one which tells so much
"Cry my rose, the Sun is worth it
Even when it fails to warm you,
In the midst of Autumn’s ache.
But forget what Sun did promise
When it showered you with passion.
Failed to mention, time will come,
It will turn away as if it never
Caressed you" -just beautiful Liana
ONE LOOKS BACK AND RECALLING YOUTHFUL DAYS, BEMAONS THE PASSING OF TIME. ARTFULLY RENDERED, MY FRIEND...WONDERFUL! THANKS SO MUCH FOR SHARING. LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
I felt this through and through...loss of love and friends sometimes overwhelmes me! Panic takes place and you don't know how to deal with it! I try to keep my mind and heart in focus on the smell of the rose and remmeber the fragrance that goes on and on...helps me to know ..this to will pass.
I can recognize your sense of tragic fate, your bittersweet melancholy that surrounds the inevitable loss, Liana. And sometimes your poetry (to me) is like a question, a haunting one, that has no answer... life that is a form of resistance against loss and the fear of being forgotten.
Cry my rose, the Sun is worth it
Even when it fails to warm you,
In the midst of Autumn’s ache.
But forget what Sun did promise
When it showered you with passion.
Failed to mention, time will come,
It will turn away as if it never
Caressed you.
Your verses are filled with meaningful symbolism that awakens thoughts and emotions; I can completely relate. Thank you, Liana. Love and best wishes,
Liana, this is one of your finest renderings in a long list. The fate of love and all things living, " But the laws of fate are finite;" is a powerful and intuitive observation that shakes us with reality. Thank you for sharing this work whose rhythm carries the reader effortlessly from line to line anxiously awaiting the next emotional encounter. I wish you love and peace my dear friend. Jon Michael
A delicious write that soars in sweet aether. The rhythmn you've created, dear Liana, is distinctive. It's as if the reader can't help falling into the next line. Wonderful imagery, too! Your poetic aesthesias continue burgeoning. Thankyou for sharing your exceptional work. And thanks to Anatol for making it accessible to readers like me. richard...
Such a lovely poem, written so tenderly by a very gifted poet. I read through your poem several times to fill my senses with the fragrance of your talent! I will save this one.
this is such a well designed and perfectly presented written expression of the full cycle of this beautiful vision that i was compelled to read it twice imeadiately
budd
I would have loved to read this in it's original form, Russian. Even so it is a spell-binding and beautiful poem although it deals with death and destruction as it destroy the beauty of the rose.
Mary Angela Nangini's poems celebrate the richness of life and love. From the city to cottage-country and the roads in between, Nangini explores the changing seasons of her varied region. (This book will soon be reprinted in hard cover.)
This is a book of free verse poetry that addresses the seven main tests in life and offers some sensible solutions to passing those tests with minimal discomfort.
From the author of Jupiter Remembered and Until It’s Time: Embracing Life In Our Later Years comes Petals of Love: Poetry of a Woman’s Soul – a heartfelt collection spanning more than thirty-five years. Through tender reflections, these poems offer g
Share
Print
Save
Follow
"Cry my rose, the Sun is worth it
Even when it fails to warm you,
In the midst of Autumn’s ache.
But forget what Sun did promise
When it showered you with passion.
Failed to mention, time will come,
It will turn away as if it never
Caressed you" -just beautiful Liana
With respect,
Carol Phelan Aebby
What a great writer you are!
Teresa
Axilea
*Liana*
Lady Vivian
Even when it fails to warm you,
In the midst of Autumn’s ache.
But forget what Sun did promise
When it showered you with passion.
Failed to mention, time will come,
It will turn away as if it never
Caressed you.
Your verses are filled with meaningful symbolism that awakens thoughts and emotions; I can completely relate. Thank you, Liana. Love and best wishes,
Regis
Chip Bergeron
Joy L. Hale
budd