Hereafter, in Elysium
by crystal streams with mossy banks
and shady groves around
there apple trees and grapevines
and virgins too abound.
Where no rain falls
or mist or cloud intrudes
and time stands still or dances on
according to our moods.
And as we proceed through pleasure
our shining shadows tingle-
no, tinkle in the breeze,
the stupendous and the intake of breath
are both so close to hand
which incredibly, delightfully also
clasps a magic wand.
Authority takes no hold here
there is no sorrow either, too
I wonder what in heaven
we are ever meant to do.
How wonderful, how terrible
how simply ice-cold blue.
It may be so here now already
and we who misconstrue.
beatriceanddante 