and the winds bring the voice of your rhymes,
the murmur of falling letters austere,
of dripping ink
of counting syllables,
syllabication that moves her lips and contour
palate heaven
vetoing the air, restricting
vital memory, preventing
beating heart until
verses flow like torrents,
in abundance!
tearing the land and root
of trees cling to it,
tearing the clouds, causing
storms and hurricanes, or just touching,
with soft hands,
the breeze from an ear ready to listen,
of eyes ready to read,
an articulated mouth,
slow or ill, the indefinable music
your inspiration shines.
Dalianegra Mayte.
Painting: Erato, muse of poetry "(" Erato Muse of Poetry "), 1870, Edward John Pointer.
0 comments:
Post a Comment