Last thing
We met somewhere in the twilight zone
Moon and stars had long been gone
Black bats were circling high above
Last thing I thought about was love

Your silhouette crept up from nowhere
There was a rush and rustle in the air
Made my heart and hair stand on end
Swiftly you vanished around the bend

Didn´t know why I took up trail
Something within wanted to wail
Caught up with you in clouds of steam
You turned and told me: it´s a dream

I yelled at you: no, it´s a lie!
You said: Alright, if so, you´ll die.
The scare went deep, the scar was wide
The knife you wielded slashed my hide.

There was no blood, or it seemed
My vision faded, someone screamed
Your face was close, I felt your kiss
The lips so cold, so great the bliss.

The twilight turned to dusty dark
A bastard dog started to bark
Red raindrops fell from high above
Last thing I thought about was love.
Tom Berg, March 2002

I love you

Quivering with tension
You beside me You besiede me
Not knowing that you do
With your presence
Your breath and mine
Unifying in the air
Two being one
But you don´t know


Don´t dare
To look at you
Can´t keep my feeling inside
But you at my side
Would they hurt you,
Those powerful passions
That torture my heart?
Don´t know.

Help me
Give me a sign
Dare a look
Listen to my heart
How it beats
And tries to tell you
Like drums in a jungle
Of proliferating plants
And ognorant animals.

It whispers
Love lives inside me
Older than mankind
Vaster than the universe
Endless efforts
Yearning desire
Of my loving heart
Unknown to you?
By Tom Berg

You ask me why I dwell in the green mountain;
I smile and make no reply for my heart is free of care.
As the peach-blossom flows down stream and is gone into the unknown,
I have a world apart that is not among men.

The Hard Road

Since yesterday had throw me and bolt,
Today has hurt my heart even more.
The autumn wildgeese have a long wing for escort
As I face them from this villa, drinking my wine.
The bones of great writers are your brushes, in the school of heaven,
And I am Lesser Hsieh growing up by your side.
We both are exalted to distant thought,

Aspiring to the sky and the bright moon. But since water still flows, though we cut it with our swords,
And sorrow return,though we drown them with wine,
Since the world can in no way answer our craving,
I will loosen my hair tomorrow and take to a fishing-boat.

Andrew Marvell
The Definition of Love

MY Love is of a birth as rare
As 'tis for object strange and high
It was begotten by Despair
Upon Impossibility.

Magnanimous Despair alone
 Could show me so divine a thing
Where feeble Hope could ne'r have flown
But vainly flapt its tinsel wing.

And yet I quickly might arrive
Where my extended soul is fixt
But Fate does iron wedges drive,
And always crowds it self betwixt.

For Fate with jealous eye does see
Two perfect Loves; nor lets them close:
Their union would her ruin be,
And her Tyrannic pow'r depose.

And therefore her Decrees of Steel
Us as the distant Poles have plac'd,
(Though Love's whole World on us doth wheel)
Not by themselves to be embrac'd.

Unless the giddy Heaven fall,
And Earth some new Convulsion tear;
And, us to join, the World should all
Be cramp'd into a Planisphere.

As Lines so Loves oblique may well
Themselves in every Angle greet:
But ours so truly Parallel,
Though infinite can never meet.

Therefore the Love which us doth bind
But Fate so enviously debars,
Is the Conjunction of the Mind,
And Opposition of the Stars.