Sentado miro pola fiestra do salón
día soleado, céspede amarelo
a sebe que oculta a rua
o macizo de hortensias contra a casa
Adentro hai unha calma pura
sen movemento, atemporal
Levántase de súpeto o vento
arrastra unha area teimuda
vinda da fronteira do mar
ou dalgún deserto afastado
Malia a longa viaxe
frótase paciente ás cousas
gran a gran, traballo solidario
avanza o proceso de substitución
Ao pouco o arbusto vencido
esqueleto escuro que fire a meniña
as flores sen tempo de florecer
o vidro mate entorpece o camiño da luz
Adentro, perdida a vista
procuro nas partículas abrasivas
memorias de tempos minerais
antes de se converteren en caos
Before the chaos
Sitting in the living room I look out
through the window: sunny day, yellow lawn
the hedge that hides the street
the hydrangeas massif against the house
Inside there is a pure calm
motionless, timeless
The wind suddenly rises
dragging stubborn sand
coming from the sea border
or from some distant desert
Despite the long journey
patiently rubs things
grain by grain, solidarity task
the process of replacement advances
Little by little the defeated bush
dark skeleton that wounds the retina
the flowers without time to bloom
the frosted glass obstructs the light's path
Inside, my sight lost
I search in the abrasive particles
memories of mineral times
before they become chaos
Ah! Abel, que poema bucólico cheio de lirismo e metáforas. Gostei muito.😆
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Obrigado Milu e boa noite, 🙏🙏⚘️
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A haunting stillness wrapped in elemental drift, time and memory sifted through wind and sand.
Beautifully penned poem!
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Thanks Simona, I’m glad you like this poem where I express my fears.
I love your comment!
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You are very welcome!
Me gustaLe gusta a 1 persona