With Arms Open Wide 18. 01. 02

К этому произведению необходим авторский комментарий:
   ...Почти шесть лет минуло с тех пор, как я расстался с некогда нежно любимой девушкой. Я понятия не имел где она, с кем и как. Не знал даже названия государства, в котором она может пребывать; но попытался представить, о чем она могла бы думать и что чувствовать по прошествии такого количества времени. Как выяснилось позже, стихотворение оказалось поистине пророческим.

Epigraph:     « ...Long way from home... nowhere to go...
What made the river so cold?
Tell tales, sighs and cries of dreams unfulfilled
And time is running dry
Panic-stricken bloodshot hearts try to restart
But no longer built of the well to survive
     sweet oblivion...»*

                With Arms Open Wide

On the past's edge the dim wind sways the silence,
Plays in the hair of the young lonely girl
She's contemplating the small desert islands
From the lake shore with the grief in her soul

Somewhere beyond there's a light of salvation,
Somewhere too far there are her native skies
Nothing's left here but the last revelation,
None but the tears and the sun's blinding rise

I see her image beside the dark water,
Hear the sad words from the cold empty heart
Hope's on the wane when the warm days get shorter
And the blood-curdling sense cuts like a dart

Youth... its decline yet approaches much faster
Than the experience brings the true peace
But when your own hands create the Disaster,
Your greatest sorrows may only increase

This girl's abandoned her home for the better
But some years passed and she had to pretend
That no one guesses the future dreams shatter
'Cause she's betrayed her best lover and friend

That man who cried for her timeless interment
Now shares his fate with the cruel freezing grace
Lost in the infinite spaces of torment
He still remembers her ardent embrace...

Her choice is done but the doubt is appearing
When her deep pain's turning into the verse
All the high prophecies sound out of hearing
Just the glum strains reach the void universe

She'll never make for herself the confession
That the forgotten love still lives inside
And as she took in the first touch of Passion,
She takes the sun rays with arms open wide


          * Anathema "A Fine Day To Exit"