I'm not a butterfly emerged from its chrysalis,
but a Monarch ensnared in amber resin;
a butterfly that's to have spread its wings,
risen up to the welkin longingly,
but got lodged in a golden dream.
Laid to rest eternally in a warming womb,
it tastes like honey, soft to touch it is,
turned to tinder by a spark easily,
eternalized in its beauty,
with its wings concealed.
Captive to amber,
like a stone within a stone,
in a motionless slumber
lies a tiny butterflied form,
permeated by eternity,
dwelling in luminosity.
A flutter of butterfly wings
in flickering flashes of light
through the smoothness of glassy facets
is seen by the one
who's a fate-stricken star-gazer
with metamorphic visions.
Amber Butterfly © Ladanseuse
English translation of "Jantarový motýl" dated 23. 1. 2023,
based on the Czech concept of 1. 11. 2O22 finalized on 23. 1. 2023
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