Music of Apollo
Music of Apollo scattering an intellectual melancholy
O voices of the Muses beautiful and sweet !
The poesy, prayer, and hymn of radiance where the senses quit !
Singing the sonnet and rhymes of Apollo from a world lying beyond the sky’s vaulted dome!
In an awakening I feel floating as a churning river of foam.
Here loveliness merges into nothing in Heaven's sink,
From where the immortal beauty's fountains spring.
Amidst the stars where the radiance glows,
The clouds fly and the swans glow
In the lake of light where in the depth the highest height of the sky meets the images from below,
In the human soul I see the glimps of Apollo's lyre and bow.
In a vermilion sky rimmed by unearthly light,
Where the verses of Calliope become soundless before the poets are able to write,
In the sculptured stones that do not divert the mind to the passion of flesh and bone,
Over the death of Orpheus where the Muses moan,
In the notes of the lutes and the lyrical songs,
Dancing in the flower-decked meadow where Hyacinthus is reborn,
The daughters of Memory weep for Calliope’s son.
Under the vast universe that appears vacant and desolate,
Where Apollo mourns the loss of love of Daphne and Hycanthius,
While the rays chase the beauty who quickly changes her physical state,
Music flies in invisible wings,
Touching the flowers , the buds and the leaves in the heart’s eternal spring,
The sunlight shines upon the marble statutes where the silence departs,
The Muses bring back the dismembered Orpheus’ parts.
O bewildered heart!
Where the immortal musician creates symphonies in flame !
The leaves sprout, the swans fly, Apollo shoots arrows to create a spiritual shiver of rays,
The eddying currents in the mind flow as a river ,
The words and the notes modulate over the lake of light where the beauty remains ever.
Hearing the unbound music around ,
Where the heart glides in flight with the melodious sound,
In a boat afloat in a winding stream moving in wilderness through passages across mountains and vales,
In a pinnacle of love,
In a journey where Apollo spreads his rays from above,
In flowers and buds ,
In waving melodies,
In the silence of the heart,
O what a strange joy! What a rhaspody!
O beauties carved as stautes in marble!
While the inner light transcends itself,
The voiceless speaks from the inner self,
The immortal soul mourns seeing world’s cruelity and pain,
The words you utter, the music you create, the tones you tune,
Incinerate all poetry and music in the heart,
That are nothing but illusion’s fume.
In your touch the feelings escape the earthly life’s burn ,
Fill the eyes in tears that quenches the fire in heart’s golden urn.
O ethereal beauty!
In the hours’ rolling waves,
While the gusts fly from shore to shore,
Move from one to the other unknown quay,
While in golden hair outspread,
The branches of tree dance with the sea spreying the soothing spreys ,
The feeling of love move in sculptor's hands fleeing the torments of rays,
O Apollo! I see your face,
In supreme beauty and grace ,
Scattering godly splendour ,
Like the beauteos world's dazzling pointer,
You lead the mortal souls along the star-strewn way.
O beauteous ray ! The source of intellectual melancholy and pain !
Marsyas's punishment in the Phrygrian meadow!
Where the mortal plays music challenging oracle and fate,
In tears the soul bends to lift the flayed Marsyas before the dripping blood the beauty may stain,
Under a starry world, where the shapes dissolve and leave the bondge of the world bound pain,
Leaning on the tree I see you play your lyre,
Plucking the strings you play the tunes of melancholy,
Amidst this the swans ply by as joyful melodies,
And Orpheus’ head sings the songs of eternal light, love and beauty.
While Orpheus' head passes by,
The Muses collect the bones of the musician before they say good-bye,
The voiceless murmur of the heart disperses in the stream,
The musicians and poets awaken in dream,
Bidding adieu to the soul who has been only a source of joy,
The Muses come to bury Orpheus along a path,
Where nature once danced in a sunglown mirth.
While over the world of death, dust and lust ,
Orpheus' head floats in the sky,
And sings together with the flocks of swans who fly by,
In the evening light's delightful swim ,
While Orpheus floats as a dream,
With light receding over the ocean where the starry twinkles appear dim,
In the star strewn coast of Phapos,
I see the journeyman arriving at the shore of Lesbos.
In that land of warm night,
Orpheus' head receives rest on the altar of light,
Drifting from the coast of Thessaly to the shore where the Phrygians play flutes and pipes,
The head of the Muse's son rest amidst Apollo’s melancholy of an intellectual life,
In the altar where mortals come to seek, joy, beauty and light.
Return to the realm of Orpheus