An Unwritten Poem

/, Blesok no. 77-79/An Unwritten Poem

An Unwritten Poem

There Are Some Ordinary Lives, but All Loves Are Extraordinary
Some Poets Write As They Live
Tonight, My Love, Fire Walks Through the City
An Unwritten Poem
Question Mark
The Invisible, My Love, Overflows with Meaning
We Have Nothing Left, My Love, Except Love
When You Are Not With Me in Tomai
The Window Was Blind
It Happened In Broad Daylight

The invisible, my love, overflows with meaning.
Overflows with the fragrance of meadow flowers
whose silent death renews our souls,
weary as our bodies on this hot
August afternoon, as we, drenched in sweat
and out of breath, motionless, lie on a bed
cradled only a short while ago by high waves.
Blinded by love we have, my love, foreseen
many things. Overlooked many more. Rains
replacing sun-filled days. The quiet of dusk.
The autumn of youth’s intemperance.
The melancholy mood of satires…
My hot breath keeps your neck warm,
as in long, cold winter nights. In double
solitude even my unspoken word opens
the silver locket hanging from a fine chain
between your bare breasts,
holding your little secret. A rainbow above the city
hidden by dark clouds of smoke.
Where nights are white from burning fires
and where days are black from dying.

Translated by Mia Dintinjana

2018-08-21T17:22:51+00:00 August 1st, 2011|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 77-79|0 Comments