Summer Of Heart Poem by Edmond Rand

While the rain start,
I will call the moon: DREAM
And my heart: single dust play
a sky's soccer ball in the birth of stars,
And so: king, offspring of stars's mom
And I named everything around me:
Flowers: VIOLIN made of cut unknown branch
Sing with orphanage of sadness,
Rain: sweeping of bird from unknown forest
Lightning: images of stars in the river
Looking up to the heaven of night,
Stars: twin of flute of my childhood
Which I wanted to pour just half of my tears
And to inquire my lost's grave: 'what unknown
Cut branch make this violin of mine to sing,
Which dream, or mournful mom of flowers sweeping
Beyond the room of night? ?
For till the rain stopped,
He does not hear except thus: 'where is the creatures
Made of vegetation born with rose of broken heart,
Peaches forest of memory, remembrance of ancestors
Forsook his beginning?
Behold, he is, yet no awoke since to be conscious that:
He is a violin: learn to sing, learn to speak
Upon the hand of deaf.

Edmond rand
29 December 2016