Treasure Island

Marianne Soher

(20 June 1933 / Sofia, Bulgaria)

Tu Calle


Esta mañana tu calle
Vomita sus autobuses
En esta calor precoz
Que presagia tempestad.

Esta mañana tu calle
Tiene el color del plomo,
De metal abandonado,
El color gris del dolor.

Esta mañana tu calle
No es mi calle, vida mía.
Y le doy la bienvenida
A mi cuartito otoñal.

Sus persianas entornadas,
Dos matas en el balcón
Música suave, silencio,
Y frescura, y quietud.

Que pasen las tempestades,
Que se desboque el dolor.
Amparada por mi otoño,
Espero que vuelva el sol.

Esta mañana tu calle
No es mi calle, vida mía.
Quizás mañana, si quieres,
Pasearemos en el sol...

Submitted: Friday, November 29, 2013
Edited: Saturday, November 30, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

...to a long gone love...

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