I

                                                 
 
                                                                Dekle, le zate nov ta venec sije,
                                                                navdih mu dala muza je s Parnàsa
                                                                da stihov mojih pesem zlatolasa
                                                                zdaj trosi cvetke nove elegije.

                                                        
                                                               Ni videlo oko, kar srce bije
                                                               na celem svetu lepšega mu stasa;
                                                               mi vzeta je razsodnost gologlasa,
                                                               ki dana je bila od očetije.

                                                               Prisluhni mu, dekle, kako ječeče
                                                               srcé mi bolno za teboj gineva,
                                                               ki si vklenìla v kot ga svoje ječe.

 
                                                              Ah hitro, hitro nama čas mineva
                                                               a védi, ločim z vencem te iz gneče –
                                                               utiral ti bom z njim poti odmeva.
 

                                                             
                                                                               II

                                                            
                                                               Utiral ti bom z njim poti odmeva,
                                                               da tvoje bo ime povsod slovelo,
                                                               kjerkoli se bo pesmi moje pelo
                                                               ljudem lepote tvojega odseva.

                                                           
                                                               Kovat' te v zvezde mi srcé veleva;
                                                               morda zjasni se tvoje lice velo
                                                               prodre do srca ti veliko delo,
                                                               milina stihov mojega napeva.

     
                                                               Morda odpadla bodo vsa bremena,
                                                                k veselju nekega boš segla dneva,
                                                                loveč njegova blažena semena.

   
                                                                Takrat zravnala se boš, draga déva
                                                                in šla po potkah svojega namena
                                                                navkreber, kod srcé skrivaj zahteva.

                                                                              III

                                                                Navkreber, kod srcé skrivaj zahteva
                                                                se vzpela boš nekoč 'z globin Gerjona
                                                                iz krajev muk in večnega zatona,
                                                                kjer bolna duša ti sedaj sameva.

         
                                                                Vso bledo, majhno te v svoj plašč odeva
                                                                trpljenja grenkega mračnjaška cona,
                                                                bila le- ta poslana je od trona
                                                                Fortune k pesmim mojega sospeva.

                                                     
                                                               Pomagal rad bi céliti ti rane
                                                               z napevi svoje srčne melodije
                                                               strupene za trpljenja lačne vrane.

                                                           
                                                               Pregnala družno mračne bi vizije
                                                               in zgodbo, ob kateri razrahljane
                                                               jokale bodo zvezdne galaksije.

                                                IV

                                                               Jokale bodo zvezdne galaksije
                                                               nad tabo, ki storjena ti prisila
                                                               bila je od domačega azila
                                                               glavarja tvoje rodne domačije. 

                                                           
                                                               Krivica trpka, ki do néba klije
                                                               bridkòst je nežni duši zapustila
                                                               razuma mlado srčnost razlastila,
                                                               da strta se sedaj po prsih bije.

   
                                                               Prihodnost negotova se odpira
                                                               in v nič razblinjajo se iluzije,
                                                               počasi duša si svoj prav utira.

                                                           
                                                              Vsej strti ti srcé trpeče vpije
                                                              ob dejstvu, da iz tvojega izvira,
                                                               iz krajev daljnih se ta pesem vije.

 
                                                                                 V
  

     
                                                               Iz krajev daljnih se ta pesem vije
                                                               mrakoba je srca in mojih vzdihov
                                                               ves ranjen zanjo ískal sem navdihov
                                                               odet v obskurdnost svoje letargije.

                                                         
                                                               'Z oblakov trumoma deževje lije
                                                               požara ne uspe gasit' prepihov
                                                               saj célile ne bodo ran in stihov
                                                               orkanov divjih srčne razprtije.

             
                                                               Razum zaman iz modrih knjig prebira
                                                               zaman prav vso posvetno je mazilo,
                                                               ko zaigrala mi je tvoja lira.

                                                            
                                                                Kar ránilo me ni, me bo ubilo
                                                                ljubezen le plamti in ne zamira,
                                                                iz srca zanjo sem podal netilo.

                                               VI

                                                                Iz srca zanjo sem podal netilo
                                                                oči ovila je v luči bleščavo
                                                                jim dala gledat upanje sanjavo ,
                                                                lepote tvoje čudežno darilo.

                                                        
                                                                Ti meni hkrati strup si in zdravilo
                                                                stezìca, pot, ki vodi me v naravo
                                                                užiti nje čarobnost in blodnjavo
                                                                v prividih tebe, ki si mi mamilo.

                                                        
                                                                Vsa misel se je tebe oklenila
                                                                 semenje prašno je na novo vzklilo,
                                                                 podoba starih ran se izgubila.

                                                              
                                                                 Za vedno ti bo klasje hvalo vilo
                                                                 zahvale pesem níkdar pozabila
                                                                 za ogenj, ki mu plati je nemilo.
 

                                                                               VII

                                                                 Za ogenj, ki mu plati je nemilo
                                                                 oznáčila ga modra je orlica,
                                                                 saj moč mu ni uzreti tvoj'ga lica,
                                                                 obličje tvoje v molk se je zavilo.

                                                             
                                                                 Le čému čakaš, da se bo zgodilo,
                                                                 ko nate v gozdu že preži lisica
                                                                 in vmes še vedno dolga bo daljica,
                                                                 da trnje naju bo za vek ločilo?

                                                         
                                                                 Sta muzi dve bili le v tem življenju
                                                                 le dvakrat zabučale so žirije,
                                                                 srcè se dvakrat vdalo koprnenju.

                                                                 Spoznal sem - pesem solze ne izmije

                                                                 in jokal sam bom v mukah , hrepenenju

                                                                 v verigah venca večne utopije.

                                                                                VIII

                                      V verigah dano venca utopije
                                                                    se čúditi ogljenemu lasišču.
                                                                    Z obrazom belim druži se v stičišču,
                                                                    ob ustnah rožnatih dehtečih sije.

                                                        Peha se mi razumnost v anarhije,
                                                                oči črnina je z menoj v očišču,
                                                                prav vsako noč popelje me h križišču
                                                                pomladnih dnevov skupne nostalgije.

                                                                Lepota tvoja lipe je cveteče,
                                                                milina slepcev le očem zakrita,
                                                                ki niso b'le deležne tvoje sreče.

                                                                Začetek je s teboj noči in svita

                                                                kjer sred' življenja barke opoteče

                                                                enotna mi srce in duh kipita.

orfej