De profundis (final)

[busker]

De profundis Edit 4 (final)

Darling boy, whose lips are like summer
Sangiovese, the dawn light tangles
in your hair, like in a wood
intense, profound.

In dreams, a sun
lights up the sea. On a boat, some boys.
Red, malachite, and gold the day -
their heads are haloed, golden hay
their wind swept locks.

They leap into a tidy sea, 
and I sink deep into the depths.

Edit 3

Darling boy, whose lips are like summer
Sangiovese, the dawn light tangles
in your hair, like in a wood
intense, profound.

In dreams, the sun of Napoli
lights up the sea. On a boat, some boys.
Red, malachite, and gold the day.
Their heads are haloed, golden hay
their wind swept locks.

They leap into a tidy sea, 
and I sink deep into the depths



Previous edits 

Thanks The cranes reference doesn’t seem to be working
Also, the Dante allusion is overdone, making the narration unnatural. What’s the link anyway between the two?
Reworked.




Edit 2

Darling boy, whose lips are like summer
Sangiovese, the dawn light tangles
in your hair, like in a wood
intense, profound.

In dreams, I see a Maltese sun
light up the sea, on a boat some boys.
Red, malachite, and gold the day.
Their heads are haloed. Golden hay
their wind swept locks.

They leap into a tidy sea, 
and I sink deep into the depths.

Edit 1
Darling boy, whose lips are like summer
Sangiovese, the morning sun
falls on your hair, like on a field
of what’s flaxen in Tuscany
longed for in exile,
from the murk where where cranes are wailing,
wheeling in the frozen depths.

At night, I dream of a Maltese sun
light up the sea, on a boat some boys.
Red, malachite, and gold the day.
Their heads are haloed. Golden hay
their wind swept locks. Their limbs are lean,
the green ocean glints in their eyes.

They leap into a tidy sea, 
and I sink deep into the depths.

Original
Darling boy, whose lips are like summer
Sangiovese, the Tuscan noon
in your wind swept hair, 
go trippingly. Where  I go
the cranes are reeling
blown by winds from the frozen depths.

I shall try to think of a Maltese sun
light up the sea, on a boat some boys.
Red, malachite, and gold the day.
Their heads are haloed. Golden hay
their wind swept locks, they go trippingly
where you go, and I sink deep
into the depths.

[spoiler]
References:
1. https://www.famous-trials.com/wilde/323-letters
2. Dante Commedia Canto V 


E come li stornei ne portan l’ali40
nel freddo tempo, a schiera larga e piena,
così quel fiato li spiriti mali
di qua, di là, di giù, di sù li mena;
nulla speranza li conforta mai,
non che di posa, ma di minor pena.
E come i gru van cantando lor lai,
faccendo in aere di sé lunga riga,
così vid’ io venir, traendo guai,
ombre portate da la detta briga;

And as the wings of starlings bear them on ⁠
⁠In the cold season in large band and full,
⁠So doth that blast the spirits maledict;

It hither, thither, downward, upward, drives them;
⁠No hope doth comfort them forevermore,
⁠Not of repose, but even of lesser pain. ⁠

And as the cranes go chanting forth their lays,
⁠Making in air a long line of themselves,
⁠So saw I coming, uttering lamentations,
Shadows borne onward by the aforesaid stress.

3.  https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ruby,_Go..._Malachite