En un pais de mudos
se escucha un silencio
vuelan semillas rasgadas
mordiendo la tierrra congelada
yerma por exceso de nosotros.
Velos del alma que caen
ante el toque de una caricia ausente
Y la vida se amontona en las espaldas
detenidas en el aroma de un espíritu ajeno
traído por el estornudo del deseo.
(YTA)
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2 comments:
I have been reading your poem over and over for the past half hour. It is quite good. I think I understand the first part, but the second part I don't understand yet. I will ponder some more over it.
When I write something, I traslate the ideas into images that conect feelings more than a ratio process. It's a intuitive writting after years to practice.
When I wrote that one, it was when I came to EEUU. I know that you can see it, because the image is about a people (a lot of) dincovering themselves after to erose another dreams that they believes their propety. The second parragraf speak about anxiety, hopes, love to a dream that could be single o colective, but depends to another. Its about desire.
It's about love.
Maybe I am divaging a lot.
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