When I turned around Cerro,
On the upper deck, I lost a coin,
It shines and sinks into the mud,
A bright thing, swallowed up by time and darkness.
I think I made an irreversible move.
Joined the history of this planet
Two consecutive, parallel, and perhaps infinite series:
My destiny is made up of fear, love and futile ups and downs.
The fate of that metal disk,
Running water will take it to the gentle abyss.
Still the vast sea, still biting.
Saxon or Viking trophies.
Every moment of my sleep and alertness
Another moment corresponds to blind coins.
Sometimes I feel guilty,
Sometimes it's jealousy,
Because you are in the maze of time, like us,
But I don't know anything.
A poet will accomplish nothing in his life. His strength comes from all the things he has never done, from those moments full of "unattainable". He was inconvenienced? Then his expressive ability will be enhanced and his breathing will be more relaxed.
Poetry expresses the essence we can't have; Its ultimate significance is that all "moments" are impossible.
? -Chiolang
William Blake
My mother gave birth to me in the wilderness in the south.
I am black, but ah! My soul is white,
English children are as white as angels,
But I am black, as if I have been deprived of my luster.
Under the tree, my mother taught me,
Sit down, it's not hot,
She put me on her lap and kissed me,
He pointed to the east and began to say to me:
Look at the rising sun: where does God live?
Emit his light, emit his heat.
Man and beast, flowers and trees,
Accept the comfort of dawn and the happiness of noon.
Put us in a small space on the ground,
Let's learn to bear the light of love.
This dark body and this tanned face,
It was just a dark cloud, like a dark jungle.
Because when our souls learn to endure the heat,
The dark clouds will disappear and we will hear his voice.
Say: out of the jungle, my love, my baby.
Like a jubilant lamb around my golden tent.
My mom just said that and kissed me.
That's what I told the English children.
I left the dark clouds, he left the white clouds,
We exulted around God's tent like lambs.
I'll shade him until he can stand the heat,
Leaning happily on the father's knee,
Then I will stand up and stroke his silver hair,
I will be like him, and he will be attached to me.
Emily Dickinson
I am nobody! Who are you?
Are you a nobody, too
Then we're a couple.-Keep quiet!
They'll kick us out, you know.
How terrible it is to be a celebrity!
How boring, like a frog,
Write your name all day.
Read to the mud that admires you!