Os pradairos, as faias
asoman á beira da estrada
traen a mensaxe do outono
aos que pasan con presa
as miñas mans, os meus dedos
arrecenden de súpeto a terra
*
once pingas de orballo
traspasan o goretex da miña alma
que agora sente a friaxe
da mañá de novembro na herba
*
Ao igual que fixera eu
sei que envolveches o corazón
en ecuacións diferenciais
cubríches as partes moles
coa sólida materia da ciencia
*
once anos, once espiñas
once dores do meu sangue
que tento sen éxito calmar
co poderoso bálsamo da poesía
porén o dourado das follas esperta
as once feridas do desapego
Eleven thorns
The maples, the beeches
look out on the side of the road
bring the message of autumn
to those passing in a hurry
my hands, my fingers
suddenly smell like earth
*
eleven drops of dew
pierce the goretex of my soul
that now feels the cold
of November morning on the grass
*
just like I did
I know you wrapped your heart
in differential equations
you covered the soft parts
with the solid matter of science
*
eleven years, eleven thorns
eleven pains of my blood
which I try unsuccessfully to calm down
with the powerful balm of poetry
however, the gilding of the leaves wakes up
the eleven wounds of detachment
I found your poem really wonderful!!!
Me gustaLe gusta a 1 persona
It is the lament for my little daughter whom I have not seen for eleven years. Autumn brought me her memory. I am glad you commented! Buona sera
Me gustaLe gusta a 2 personas
Eleven years! It’s so sad!
I’m sending you all my sympathy and love
Me gustaLe gusta a 1 persona
I guess everyone has their own grief. Thank you for your sympathy.
Me gustaLe gusta a 2 personas
You’re more than welcome 🙏🌹🙏
Me gustaLe gusta a 1 persona