Of the Light

/, Blesok no. 47/Of the Light

Of the Light

You Let the Words
Bright Tenderness
А Dream Entangled My Reality
I Ran
I Dream that I Disappear
The Word Is Our Destiny Deserved
Sorceries and Witchcraft

Translated by: Elizabeta Bakovska

To J.

You let the words
in your palms
you touch them with your heart
while they swim through your waters
nobody who receives them
knows if they are tones or colours
eyes or lips or
full-grown rain drops
of sunny love
I wonder who enjoys
the old children’s game more
they or you

AuthorElizabeta Drakulovska
2018-08-21T17:23:16+00:00 April 16th, 2006|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 47|0 Comments