Coimbra* (anno...)
Your lemon tree
hung with yellow fruit
in front of white house,
sun, shadows on the wall;
all is already in the
backyard of my memory.
There are no seasons
and the lemon tree
remains an evergreen
for me.
*Coimbra - nice place in Portugal
Fantastic imagery... Flora got there before me.... but: 'all is already in the backyard of my memory. There are no seasons' That moved me... those 3 simple lines say so much o.... Simply breathless poetry! I think I fell in love again Rx
Onelia, this line: '...backyard of my memory...' will have me returning to read you. It is incisive. Rgds, Ivan
I love Portugal and I can already picture the lemon trees and orange trees in their natural habitat. Sharp imagery here; -) HG xx
A sweet poem about a sour fruit :) Deeply nostalgic -reminds me of days in Cyprus
You use imagery effectively in your poems and use less words to describe more
Lovely image - it reminds me so much of the Amalfi Coast in southern Italy, where lemon and orange trees grow in gardens - simple but beautiful and true.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautifully pictured and presented...one could almost reach out and touch it..the backyard of memory is a startlingly beautiful phrase. All the perfection of a haiku without being a haiku...so very well written and such a beautiful poem. Love it!