Faces

Three faces: Love and Death and Art.

I've seen the face of Death
with all its luminous and frightening black splendour.

I've got the face of Art,
creating me as world's wise comprehendor.

I search the face of love,
still leaving me in craving surresplendour.

So, through your windows, through my eyes,
my dearest face of art,
I try to catch a glimpse of it,
at least to see a part.

And there I see it, holy, truly
feeding me with tension.
So real seems art's bright illusion
fed with apprehension!