Ian Stewart Black

Modern master of classical poetry

Month: May, 2011

Tristan Laments

The heart is a cruel, unbridled beast
That wears upon the fabric of youth.
For what has innocence to say when –
The dreams of a child are broken?
And so I bid goodnight to the stars,
But what has virtue left to dream of?
I shall sleep a dreamless slumber in –
The shadow of unanswered love.



If you had seen the rising sun,
And silhouettes in spectral black:
The march of darkness, ever on,
And over all we know.
If you had seen the colours drawn,
From land and sea, and sky:
If you had seen the night consume –
The daylight and the sound.
If you had felt the silence,
As we trembled in our skin:
Those of us who stood at all,
When all was said and done.
Then you would know, as I,
That our shackles are a curse.
Then you would fight, as I,
With revolution in your blood.