A touch of September brushes past the edges of your eyes Within me lies the shadow of a street growing old. A weary wind drifts through the branches, My life quietly sheds its layers, and they name me “evening.” No longer do those bright lights offer any comfort, Nor does the storm within me
THE SEASON IS AUTUMN Read More »
You passed through an evening, all of a sudden Right through the very seam of the night! Like a song whose name I do not know, You touched my heart, a beloved who fell into my night. In your eyes, there was a distant sea I, a ship left stranded upon its shore Without
FROM WITHIN AN EVENING Read More »
Yellow blended with crimson Scented with grape molasses and walnuts, An autumn arrived. All the winds stand poised for winter The earth is as warm as the palm of my hand. The vineyards have been harvested, filled with the joy of the vintage Pantries are packed to the brim, barrels overflow with bounty. Our
For a while, I believed in etymology in the idea that, once upon a time, words caused less pain… Take “Sunday”, for instance; it shouldn’t have been just another day, but rather a gap, a void that fell out of time itself. Perhaps… it was truly a unit of time a moment when people
One day, everyone leaves but some, as they depart, also switch off the light in the room. And so, you you are among those who learned to grow accustomed to the darkness early on. In your pocket, there is a broken watch it does not tell the time, but it serves as a
The Ones Who Carry the Night Read More »
I blend into the voice of a city the stone pavement chills the morning. Time, suspended in shop windows, glances at me for a fleeting moment. This walk has no designated stop the streets reveal themselves to me. Every street corner is a question mark its answer, broken, rests in my pocket. A window
Those who read books are never truly alone. You tuck one into your bag with care, And carry it with you wherever you go. Whenever you wish, you open it and begin to read As you read, you realize the author is speaking to you. Since reading is, in essence, listening to the author,
Conversing with a Book Read More »
Dear Child, O, you, a newly blossoming flower of life A daisy in the fields, a sparrow in the trees, A mother’s joy, a father’s swallow. As a child, you once wished to become a song And in the end, you did. From now on, your path grows difficult You will learn what
Children Who Can Read Life Read More »
I read a poem today it speaks of a child’s heart. The child in the poem looks at wars, saddened by the killing of human beings then turns to look at his toys, one by one all of them beautiful, all of them on the side of life. Do not ask if toys
Imagine a garden, gazing up at the sky, where thousands of blossoms have unfurled. Look, this daisy is a smiling human face, and the carnation speaks of resistance. Observe the fire-flower closely, and let it warm you, and let the four-o’clock flower grace your nights with beauty. Learn the meaning of freedom from
One Should Be Like a Flower Read More »
