80. A dream of paradise
My love is like a dream of love
but all too true to dream.
She dreams of beauty and of love
but is too pure to voice that dream.
My love is like a perfect understatement
and without exaggerations:
not a word escapes her
that lets out the truth
about the width of this reality
that is a dream but carefully
and gradually come true,
like a momentous opening of a theatre curtain
that with the greatest care reveals but faintly
more and more of an unheard of heaven
that excels all paradaisic dreams
that ever could be dreamed.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2006-08-27 at 13:12
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