Sacrum Belletrist — English Translation Refined and Rhymed

Sonnet I
Mirein Talane walks in silvered veils,
Where trembling mirrors reflect in dim light.
Deep currents coil beneath the dreamy trails,
And valleys guard the questions of the night.

Fae voices gather, weaving fierce warm flame,
Solar winds return with fire-fierce cry.
Semele moves within the thread of name,
Old vows rekindle where the embers lie.

Flames rise where wandering spirits strain to cling,
Brushed valleys sound through the hollows of dawn.
Veraynemanioc blends the hidden spring,
And tessellated paths press slowly on.

What mirror burns yet leaves the breather whole?
A silver arc strains hard against control.

Soonet II
The tremble breaks. I feel it in my chest.
The wild spring current floods the inner stone.
Semele’s storm forms fire within my breast,
And solar threads rise singing through my bone.

I walk the edge of Calelle’s dreaming stream,
Where memory burns beneath the veiled air.
Euonymus speaks low breaking the seam,
A hidden chamber opening to prayer.

Veraynemanioc binds the silver flame,
And Loryne’s dawn unfolds its holden breath.
The path once veiled now answers to my name,
Its burning line made visible through death.

The deep fire calls. I own its triad’s tone.
I walk the trembling edge and claim the stone.

Sonnet III
Burning paths fold deep in amber weave,
As Serayne moves through breath of early morn.
True mirrors tremble, bright triads conceive,
And ribbed reflections coil where light is born.

Solar winds carry the mirrored cry,
Ancient vows awaken into flame.
Paths burn again beneath the inward sky,
The wild heart stirs and answers to its name.

Echoes linger through the hollowed air,
Mirrored breath bends slowly toward its truth.
Varayne stirs within the hidden flare,
The trellor sparks beneath immortal youth.

A spark ignites inside the mirrored frame.
A silver arc strains hard against its flame.

Sonnet IV
The trellor breaks and burns the mirrored gate.
Deep colors shift along the inward tide.
Trembling light gathers shape and alters fate,
As Marrelle’s woven threads turn back inside.

Like stone the threads of memory fall fast,
Then rise transformed within the quiet air.
In Quarare’s chamber sealed against the past,
A hidden truth unfolds itself in prayer.

The ancient voices bright with reflective flame
Return and fold within the amber breath.
What once was scattered answers to one name,
burning paths grow visible in beneath.

The mirrors open. I step through the fire.
The amber weave becomes my one desire.