Sun Rising~ by Yoshay Lama Lindblom
Busy old fool you unruly sun!
why do you do this? is this fun?
you come barging in through windows
and curtains and my open doors,
stinging my eyes and scalding my soul!
Love is dependent neither on your season nor your time
You disrespectful egotistic slime!
Why don’t you instead go and rebuke, torture and torment
lazy school boys and crude men to your heart’s content!
Go to the royal house announcing the day of the King’s ride
tell the country ants to begin harvesting far and wide.
But us you cannot touch since love knows no season nor clime
nor days, nor hours, nor months which are all but fragments of time
Why should you even think, why even assume
that your beams are venerably strong, full of powerful illume
All I need to do is wink and there you are, clouded and eclipsed
But I rather not wink to lose sight of his resplendent face.
If you are still not blinded by his, my love’s radiant eyes
then tell me this when we meet again tomorrow in late light
that if all the world’s treasure lie quietly where they are
or if they lie in my bed replenishing me, satiating my mortal desire
Even if you ask the kings whom you met yesterday
“all treasures of the world in this bed lies” they’d say
If he is all the countries, then I am all his queens
nothing else is real to me it seems
compared to what we have, conquering countries is but a play,
honour’s a mimic, wealth an illusion, and everything else a cliché
You dear sun you are only half as happy as we are
Since the world now in our bed rests, and that may sound bizarre,
In your old age, my love and I and our bed the world
makes your duty lighter by warming us as we lie here curled
Shine on us and you shine everywhere
thus making this bed your center and these walls your sphere.
©Yoshay Lama Lindblom 2011
Poet’s Note: My interpretation of John Donne’s metaphysical poetry Sun Rising.