Love Hour a Poem by Pieter Cornelis Boutens

Love Hour

Pieter Cornelis Boutens

What time is it time?
It is the white dawn:
The deep meadow where no mower goes,
State of dewy flowers white and yellow;
The silver stream leads like a pure street
Road in the mist light azure;
And the morning singing heart, the lark, beats
From his dazed throat
Wisdom that does not pursue and each understands,
Joy without measure,
Joy without expensive….
What time is it time?
It’s love hour.

What time is it time?
The sun approaches noontime:
In the depths of the sea of glowing sky
Smothers the field under the gold bare;
The sickle sparks slash through the dry grain;
The shadow shrinks back into the wood;
In heaven and in waterway
No clouds go;
Only the white-transparent moon
Remains mere in the blue sky fire…
What time is it time?
It’s love hour.

What time is it time?
It’s the evening: in its rosy gold
Gets clean and old
The world’s daily face;
Quickly in the sky falls the water of light;
And all the wind voices are released;
The last wagon staggers to the barn;
The dead beckon to the dark Eastern wall;
And above shine
Western ramp in green sky meadow
Shine open Venus’ golden aster
So sudden and pure…
What time is it time?
It’s love hour.

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