Invocation

I am nothing but a lifeless lyre at your feet.
O Muses, hear me! O hear me cry!
I beg at your feet, covered with lotus petals
That were born from the blood of my bruised heart.


O hear, Mighty Princesses,
And let your divine music play through me,
Let it awake my Self that is well asleep
Amidst the din and violence of my century.


Raise my soul from its sleep eternal,
And show me the glorious nature of this world.
So that I could draw before those thousands of ignorant eyes,
The unknown paradise upon which they tread often
Only to step on it and trample it as if it’s vile mud or an ugly thorn bush.


Let your blessings ethereal flow through my veins.
So that I could feel the pain of the tramp who was once Our King.
Or, so that I could weep with the swain who mourns Orpheus beloved.
Or I might fight the mighty waves with the unfortunate sire, Cuchulain.
Or I might so as much save the Lovers from Fate that once met Juliet and her Romeo.


But now, I am all incapable of weaving the magical verses.
Because now have the Muses turned their faces away from me.
But I will keep on weaving with threads invisible.
But I will keep on invoking you with good faith.
And I will keep on hoping
That some day you will hear my moans too
Like with my Beloved.