Sonnet Iv

Peace is happiness, but war is our plight
Under the heavens. He -- prince of the night,
Severe captain-- and the World's vanity
Work for our corruption diligently.


Not enough is this, mighty Lord of all!
The Body, our home for fleeting pleasures,
Envies heedlessly the Spirit's treasures
Constantly craving our eternal fall.


How shall I wage a battle so terrible,
Frail, yet headstrong, a soul in isolation?
King Universal, Peace most veritable,
In Thee alone is hope of my salvation!


Do Thou, Lord, place me safely next to Thee
I will battle and win decisively!

by Mikolaj Sep Szarzynski

Other poems of MIKOLAJ SEP SZARZYNSKI (14)

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