To compare the mother sea against a bubble and against all of her foam. To even talk about the sand and ice of the dark seas of nebulae. To confess the curative effects of beer on my feelings about my reasons to be. If there is one, and about my performance or my lack of. To tell my love I’m still in love and always will be, normal interruptions in between. This blog is for
miércoles, 18 de mayo de 2016
To a dead bluebird
To a dead bluebird
It's true that you'll never fly again
And that your nest will wait for you
Some strange days
Before the pious and unavoidable forget
And that in the trees the fruits and insects
Will continue their business as usual
As every boring day
In this boring place
But I'll never forget you
Because I'm the only human
That was your friend
Although you never noticed me
During the last year
You started my days
With your impatient going nowhere
In the very much same way
That I did start those days
Maybe someday
I'll see you flying again
To the always green trees in paradise
And we together shall start unending days
With the happy feeling
Of not going anywhere
To Elia
Li Tao Po
VABM 12/May/2016
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