How not to love you, love, how not to love you!
If with your kisses you molded me.
If in order that I loved you, you wrenched
The most beautiful piece of your soul
...
Deny yourself the right to dream.
Kill any trace of hope.
Let your look color everything in black and fatalism.
Never believe in your strengths.
...
The illusion of an angel
Taking care of my teps, is born.
The belief that you will be there
...
My hope is torn apart by your absence.
Trying to keep you in my memories,
The hours of waiting bleed.
The nights prolong your silence.
...
As wild little animals
The words got frightened:
Before your dreamed presence
Inflamed the landscape.
...
Nothing is impossible in love,
Only to forget what is forbidden us.
How to ignore the call of love
If the meeting cries from the soul?
...
Nature delivered me a beautiful gift:
The lawn, covered in a snowy cloak,
Adorns with little clouds the tree
Without leaves, so sadly left behind.
...
When the problems, the pessimism, the unwillingness,
or the bad humor try to suffocate me
...
I refuse to die – to be an oblivion.
I am addicted to the affection:
...
I want to thank Mark Leonard Melcher, who took my poems carlingly and traslated them brautifully. I also want to thank my daughter for helping me to traslate my poems and Rhemasonador for reading my poetry so much feeling. You can listen my poems recited in english by Rhemasonador at http: //www.acidplanet.com/artist.asp? songs=375185)
24/7
I am with you, my love:
Your body is my temple.
I watch through your eyes
And mark every movement.
I need your perfectly tuned senses,
Fierce as a tiger ready to attack!
I live in the very pulse of your blood:
It is your breath, the air that I breath.
Protect my love with body and soul.
Cover me with the warmth of your tenderness:
You, my fortress, my shield.
I will sail in your veins,
The twenty-four hours:
I will feed your vigor in the battle,
And clear your mind of weariness.
We are united in love;
We will win to time.
The eternal pleasure awaits us
Once we have finished the task.
I feel like taking my clothes off in your presence, leaving my coverings as tributes on rocks. I waste myself in longitude and a latitude which will never know our lascitude, the rocky shore of our encounter in a dreamworld of poetry. I connect to you as many who pale to your feeling, your sincere rapture which accompanies the depth of poetry. To you I erect a sycophancy of all poetry which should be written in a downpoour of rain and lightening. I only hope that someday we shall meet.