2022-11-04

 BECAUSE OF AN ENGLISH LOVE

 


DELICIOUS LOVE SONG

 


books too many

 


The messengers went elsewhere.


Stork nests are empty


The wind still blows on the weather vanes though.


You know it well, go singer of time.


Someone hears your voice still.


Winning Madrid was a difficult matter.


The song of the magpie repeats the echo


They will not pass but they passed so much that they reached the sea.


The resentment of that remains.


The unabashed hatred of forgiveness and time.


But beautiful is life when May sunsets


And I pilgrim of the books


I'm repeating your name


like a psalm


The pages of the pensil do not return the echo.


I find that yes dissected leaves of your kisses


Among the withered pages.


A stuffed hair.


One note.


A gesture


virgin muse


laudable and noble


incandescent light


who paints the sunsets


Over the inaccessible arch


of the lofty rosicler


Of verses and letters and promises by the sea


I filled the amphora of my days.


And you don't come.


tell me for what reason


Little will they know of the courage


with what I fought for you


With what brio I carried your banners


love was a wasted dream


Extending myself.


And it is. Books too many.


Too many ideas.


Books so cheap they fill my drawer


Venero of silences and screams


Where your poetry flowed.


Oh source, hell and angel.


Indomitable genius.


The last word is not yet said


There are plenty of infinite directions


And the paths multiply


By the rose of the winds.


The last word is not said.


I do not give up


I seem to see your countenance


Shimmering already in the infinite mirrors.

No hay comentarios:

Publicar un comentario