When water falls,
Dropping headlong in abandonment,
Dashing on rocks in ecstasy,
Kissing and sliding on the impersonal walls,
It is as if some spirit long time pent
Rises released to seeming liberty,
Finding its voice in the tumultuous din,
Finding its form in the wreaths of spray,
Crying aloud to the matrix of its origin,
Leaping to live in the orgy of day.
Man stands in awe,
Witched by the flashing blades of the water,
Eyes lit by the light from above,
Mute before the majesty of a natural law,
Dumb in a roar such as that of slaughter
Relieved by no clemency of love;
Blind to the truth that the semblance of life
Is an illusion, vivid but false.
Only man’s heart knows the agony of strife,
Only his blood feels the beat of the valse.
Mona’s Herald 22.5.62