He was wrapped in black tissue
when some people was shining
~and~
willfully he waits in shadows
at first was just a jacket's shelter
In black
that evolves for a long dress
ready-made clothes
that made him strong and powerful
in his mind
clothes worn on Sundays
and shinning people in light
and how more gleaming in the sunday morning
how much more is his biting in dark
the light from inside must be clouded
little by little a shadow appears
making bright the shadow light
growing in dark hearts nights
but he claims, i am the light
and a book appears in white
where is she? Where is he?
bent, in a blackness page line
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
some like darkness, some like light, and some white as they prefer