'Everything is made in silence. Like
the light inside the eye.'
JAIME SABINES
This memory
incidental music
livening up
ordinary days,
that notion
borrowed chorus
unnamed glory
of unknown days.
A life
out of rap and sampling
such a remnant´s spread
you, incidental music,
have given sense to It.
A death
to the effectist circumlocution
return to the uterus
hearty reunion
with your tonal key.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem