there is an appetizer
if you only know if you only
know her or me or the other waiting
on the other side of this street or
that window, no, it is not chili,
not even curry, it is not physical
it is something beyond good appearances,
and this makes you agile like a gazelle
if you have seen one, or felt it, or
simply disregarded it, like the way you
dismissed a silly idea, a rock which you
have thrown, and has become its own
kingdom. There is this taste for the
ostracized salt, this bland bitterness
this flint and prank this unacceptable
proposition which you hide tenderly and
keep inside a music box, which makes
music for you alone. A secret.
more than delicious, it keeps your
soul burning, no smoke, no color,
A secret. It does not put you to sleep.
It burns your heart. It makes you alive.
it is good, and it is all yours alone.
it is a secret. Let yourself not know it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i loved reading this poem! it is like a stream which you wanna go on exploring and when you go as far as you can, you realize it is not ending: it goes on and on... if you only know, but it is a secret.