Wrote this for some friends who are getting married tomorrow... I'm such a sucker for romance.
When discussing matters of the spirit,
when chewing on your life’s great mysteries,
It’s clear, your thinking must be accurate:
German, the language of philosophies.
And when you wax poetic to the moon
or sing an aria to your sweetheart,
the language that you choose must make her swoon—
Italian: tongue of music and of art.
But when two people’s paths cross in a field,
and the letter made is not an X but Y,
a supple mode of speech they’d better wield
to guarantee their course is unified.
But you two both know what I’m speaking of
because your common tongue is that of love.
2 comments:
Hi Paula,
Thanks for the read. When writing that quatrain, of course the first thing to come to mind about Italian was that it's the language of love. But then, that wouldn't have worked in the poem ;-)))
RT
Paula, You knew! And took your secret of this URL to Florence with ya!
Shisa
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