Monday, April 30, 2012

(silent poem)


Poesía se está, callada,
escuchando su propia voz.”
Martín Adán *

It opens
I stop breathing for a moment
seems like a party
undefined color. 

It stops
I breathe again
seems like it’s another day but in the distance people celebrate
It’s not the end of the world.

It sleeps
I hold my breath
wings of sand hair of illusions
the clock has forgotten to say goodbye and sing its sorrow.

* "Poetry is, silent,
hearing his own voice"
Martín Adán.

©Adrian (January 2011)
translation by Nina Serrano (April 2012)

-peace and poetry-