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Estuans Interius (Burning Inside)

From Carmina Burana. “Burning inside/with violent anger...”

Burning inside
with violent anger,
bitterly
I speak to my heart:
created from matter,
of the ashes of the elements,
I am like a leaf
played with by the winds.

If it is the way
of the wise man
to build
foundations on stone,
the I am a fool, like
a flowing stream,
which in its course
never changes.

I am carried along
like a ship without a steersman,
and in the paths of the air
like a light, hovering bird;
chains cannot hold me,
keys cannot imprison me,
I look for people like me
and join the wretches.

The heaviness of my heart
seems like a burden to me;
it is pleasant to joke
and sweeter than honeycomb;
whatever Venus commands
is a sweet duty,
she never dwells
in a lazy heart.

I travel the broad path
as is the way of youth,
I give myself to vice,
unmindful of virtue,
I am eager for the pleasures of the flesh
more than for salvation,
my soul is dead,
so I shall look after the flesh.

.  .  .  .  .  

Submitted by Mark Logan, who writes: “not really a poem, not necessarily my favorite, but one that's been on my mind for a while.”

Submitted by Mark Logan, who writes: “not really a poem, not necessarily my favorite, but one that's been on my mind for a while.”


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About the author: I've been running this website from 1997. For a living I write stories and essays, program computers, edit things, and help people launch online publications. (LinkedIn). I wrote a novel. I was an editor at Harper's Magazine for five years; then I was a Contributing Editor; now I am a free agent. I was also on NPR's All Things Considered for a while. I still write for The Morning News, and some other places.

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