Yet though my outer has altered
Yet though my outer has altered, I remain the same
The same spirit and the same soul trapped in a frail, failing frame
And the sight of first complexion in maiden; here as wild as it can be seen
As blood rush on cheek and chin
The first thrill and rapture of youth in high school yard, such a pleasure to the eye
The ruddy lips of giggling maids and hair of youthful dye
The picture of me in a middle of wide meadows in early spring
Where wild tulips called their reign upon hills in expending rings
The cheery stood proud with balmy bloom upon the boughs
And the grass wrapped with smell of fresh horse hoofs
A beautiful maid passed in the meadows
And her hair waved in whirling gales and dappling shadows
I was a free child then, enfranchised and at large
The immense struck of pleasures that her sight
On me bestowed, her forms of beauty often stayed with me
Passing even into my purer mind
With tranquil restoration these feeling
Of unremembered obscure joys.
copy rights 2010
poem by Isaac Ziv
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