And us?
In the nonchalance of the diffuse dawn,
Poseidon foams.
Humanity sinks.
From oceanic madness
irrationality emerges
in ethyl odours.
Inebriation.
Incoherence.
Alienation.
Disformed waves
obscure the would-be dawn.
And us?
In paper boats we try to survive.
***
I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY
I don't know what to say
when my gaze rests on your lap
and crosses, impudently,
the autumn borders,
like the last ray of summer.
I dare to turn, silently, the key
and transpose the translucent mornings
of my feverish body,
to mitigate the thirst,
In the vintage I dream.
And in this healthy madness,
I touch the stars to offer them to you,
one by one,
protractedly,
in soft caresses,
at the dawn's threshold.
Gratitude
ОтговорИзтриване